


CoSL 13: Breaking the Ice

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [13]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Ice Powers, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Original Case fic, Science Experiments, let it go sings distantly in the back ground
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:05:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: A cure has hopefully been found for Nick's transformation problem--but some side effects apply and in this case they may be worse than the original affliction. Getting a true cure may come at a high price as well, but it's one Sloane is familiar with. Is she still willing to pay it though?





	CoSL 13: Breaking the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Little bit of a wait for this one I know. I had a lot of chapters written before I started posting but I've caught up to myself. And then life gets nuts! But I finally got this to a point I'm fairly happy with it, so I hope you enjoy! More notes at the end.

**_“I’d like to know,” she said, “do you really deserve to have someone run to the end of the world just for your sake?”_ **

\-----------------------------------------------

“You’re sure about this?” Gallin asked hesitantly. She watched the back of the woman in front of her as she took what looked like a black pearl from a crucible on a table covered in lab equipment from a mad scientist’s lab.

She didn’t even pause as she put it into a small box. “Doubting me now, Gallin?” she said lightly. She dropped the pearl into a pool of white, opalescent liquid.

“No, no, I just…doesn’t it need testing?”

“It’s a bit of trial by fire, dear. Do you think we have a line of Grimms who’ve been poisoned by a Cracher Mortal and been brought back to try this on first?”

“No…” Gallin admitted. She watched the pearl as it soaked up the liquid and turn a shiny, silvery metallic finish. “I’m just worried about giving it to him without any testing at all.”

“Nothing else would have the same reaction. So, best to give it a go now.” She closed the box and handed it to the librarian. “I’ll leave the delivery up to you.”

Gallin tried not to fumble the box and sighed. “Right…Will do.”

“Don’t be so nervous, Cynthia,” she said, squeezing her hands around the box. “We’ll find the answer, one way or another. This is just the first piece of the puzzle.” Gallin blushed but smiled and turned to leave.

\-------------

Nick was trying to keep calm. Calm was what was keeping him between sanity and potentially really hurting someone. But when his job involved running down criminals, and his life in general was fighting potential monsters on top of, it wasn’t easy.

There was still the concern of Monroe’s parents. They’d decided to extend their trip rather than go home early and had been there a week already and they may be there another week. Monroe had suggested Nick and Sloane hang back for a while they were there and that was honestly fine. Dealing with the awkwardness between the couple and his parents for one night was enough, and for Monroe mediating anymore meetings between them and the Grimms was a bit too much. Nick and Sloane agreed, and they were wrapped up in the aftermath of the Wild Hunt.

After the wildesheers were dead, they’d called Renard to let him know what happened and get him up to speed. They didn’t want police searching near the trailer—and Nick didn’t want Renard to know about the trailer in general—so they had already moved they bodies to the road near the outside of town. Sloane had found their most recent stolen car nearby and hotwired it to bring the bodies along. They set up a scene like there had been some sort of standoff. Then she set the car on fire. Nick and Hank had both backed up in shock when she lit the rag in the gas tank and started running back towards them as it quickly caught on fire. The cloak of scalps they left nearby with some of their other things so that they’d be identified as their hunted killers. Whoever killed them would be lost to the wind as Renard sent someone to make sure there was no incriminating evidence before having the techs out the next day. All the contacts Renard had were a little worrying at times.

Portland was warming up with spring trying to push winter out, and it was a relief to be honest. Nick was glad to hang his leather jacket up for his lighter windbreaker again. At the moment he was taking a rare day off to work around the house, changing out air filters and the like, while Juliette was at her vet’s office. It was strangely relaxing to focus on the mundane tasks of house work after fighting wesen and at times himself. Trying not to think about how he was always potentially going to hurt someone was the only thing he felt he could do to keep from going crazy. After all, there was no telling when Gallin might call them back he thought.

So he was surprised when his phone rang. He climbed down from the step ladder he was on, changing lightbulbs in the high light in the living room, and quickly grabbed his phone from the table. He didn’t recognize the number but it was local. Curious, he went ahead and accepted the call. He was ready to hang up if it was a spam caller. “Hello?”

“Mr. Burkhardt? It’s Cynthia. Um, Cynthia Gallin, from the library,” a somewhat nervous voice said.

“Oh, yeah, hi,” Nick said, more alert now. “Sorry, I didn’t have your number…”

“No, I usually call Sloane I know, but I had yours on file. I just wanted to let you know my contact wants to meet up with you to start treatment.”

“Seriously? That quick?” he asked in surprise. “It’s only been like two weeks since we recorded the footage.”

“Yes, but she thinks she has something and made it up already. She’s kind of quick like that. Is it a problem to do it so soon?” she asked worriedly.

“No, no, it’s fine. Um, when?”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got the treatment with me to give you.”

“Okay…uh, well…what’s this going to involve?” he asked, trying to get his hope and excitement under control.

“It’s super simple, you just take it orally. We could meet at the library and I can give it to you today if you wanted.”

“Yeah that would be great,” he said, smiling to himself. “It’s actually my day off, I can come over now if you’re free.”

“Free as a bird,” she said back brightly.

“Okay. Um, what about Sloane? Should she come?”

“No, I, uh…I think we can handle this now, we’re not going to try and change you again,” she said a little nervously.

Nick frowned, picking up on it. He was used to tuning in people’s tones. But Sloane could make people nervous so he decided to let it go. “Okay…Then I’ll meet you there soon.”

“Great! See you there.”

They hanged up and Nick had an odd feeling in his gut. At the same time, this was his best option to get his transformations under control and it was the middle of the day. Plus, Gallin seemed a rather anxious person most of the time anyway, he was probably being paranoid.

Still, he quickly texted Juliette he was heading out, and then dialed Sloane’s number.

“Hey Nick,” she said. He could hear the sound of the station behind her—his day off wasn’t necessarily her or Hanks’ day off.

“Hey…Um, so, Gallin called and set up a meeting between me and her mysterious scientist or doctor…person.”

“Really?” she asked, alert right away. “So they have something?”

“They have something, I’m not sure what exactly,” Nick said. “Gallin was a little evasive on the phone. Y’know, Gallin hasn’t mentioned a name for this contact…”

“Names are a bit of a tricky thing in our line of work,” Sloane said. “If they aren’t a Grimm and just related or helping us, it’s a potential danger to know their names in case anything goes south. The fewer people who know, the less chance they’re in danger. If Gallin says this person is our best shot, I believe her though. She hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

“Okay…I guess I just prefer having more info before I got meet them. Which is like…now.”

“Now?” she asked, surprised. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it should be okay. Like you said, if Gallin trusts them we can.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she said, relaxing a little.

“You put a lot of faith in Gallin, huh?”

“More in Librarians as a whole,” Sloane said. “But Gallin seems competent enough, as Deirdre would say.”

“…That’s good?” he asked uncertainly.

“That’s one of the highest compliments Deirdre can give,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Okay then…I’ll message you later.”

“Sounds good. Good luck.”

Nick hanged up and grabbed his windbreaker, heading out the door. The drive to the library was uneventful and he was getting out of his car when he heard someone call to him.

“Mr. Burkhardt!” He looked up and saw Gallin jogging up to him, cradling something. “Hi, um, thought it’d be better to meet you out here.”

“Oh, right…” He glanced around. “Is your, uh…friend here then?”

“What? Oh, no, sorry, I guess I gave the wrong impression,” she said, laughing a bit nervously. “She’s not really a people person, so she wanted me to deliver it for her.” She held out a carved wooden box about the size of a ring box, with an awkward smile.

“Oh…” Nick took the box, looking it over. “So how does this work.”

“It’s a pill. Take it tonight before bed and it should do the trick.”

“One pill? Really?” Nick asked in disbelief. “That’s…easy?”

“Well, it’s experimental…” Gallin admitted, shifting from foot to foot slightly. “But she’s a genius, so I’m not worried, really. If there are any issues, she’ll help figure them out.”

“Experimental?” he asked, hesitantly.

Gallin frowned, trying to straighten up. “There’s not a line of Grimms with this probably for us to work with, is there? She’s doing her best.”

Nick held up a hand. “Right, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound critical. I hope this works, really. Just not used to an easy solution with things like this…”

Gallin relaxed slightly. “I understand, but really, you don’t have to worry. We’re here to help.”

“Okay. Thanks, I’ll take this tonight then.”

“Great,” she said with a smile. “We may have to experiment and try to get you to change again though.”

“No more Tasers,” he said quickly.

Gallin blushed and smiled sheepishly. “No more Tasers…But something to try and do it.”

Nick nodded. “I’ll call you later then. And thanks again.”

She smiled much more brightly. “You’re welcome! I’m happy to help, really.”

Nick smiled and headed back for his car with a wave. He looked at the little carved box in his hand. It was carved with what looked like small angels around it and he wondered if that was meant to be a sign or somehow soothing. Setting it in the passenger seat he headed back for home.

\-----------------

Nick was in the bathroom, looking at the box in his hand. He was hopeful, but also worried given there was no telling what the side-effects might be. Sucking in a breath, he opened the box. Inside was a shiny, almost mirror like ball the size of his finger nail. Frowning, he tipped it out into his hand. It didn’t feel like metal despite its shine, more like a gumball.

“Well…here goes nothing,” he sighed. He popped it into his mouth and swallowed, grimacing a little as it went down. It was like swallowing a marble that tasted like aluminum foil—and it dissolved halfway down into liquid. He shuddered in surprise.

“Nick?” Juliette called.

“I’m here,” he said, running some water and splashing his face. Patting it dry, he turned to head out.

“Everything okay?” she asked, getting the bed ready to sleep in.

“Yeah, just…um…”

“Just what?” she asked, pausing with a pillow in her hands.

“…A friend of Sloane’s got me some medicine. It should keep me from “transforming” from now on. No more looking dead.”

“What? That’s great, why didn’t you say something before?” she said.

“It’s not a guarantee,” he sighed. “And I wasn’t even sure when and if they’d have something. It happened really fast. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Or yours?” she shot back.

Nick sighed and nodded. “Yeah. But what they gave me is supposed to do the trick in one dose.”

She looked skeptical. “One dose? There’s hardly anything that works in one dose. Well, I say that, but I suppose a lot of what we work with does on the Grimm side of things…”

“Yeah, I guess this is magic? Maybe?”

She frowned. “Nick, you didn’t just take something when you have no idea what it was, did you?”

“…Look, in my defense, I don’t know half of what I’ve taken to reverse the spell on you, cure my blindness before, or save me from the Cracher Mortal in the first place. I kind of just accept that if someone with more expertise in this says it’ll help me, it’ll probably help me.”

Juliette huffed a sigh but finally nodded. “Fair enough I suppose...”

Nick walked over and took the pillow in his hands as well. “Hey, look at me.” She did and he smiled. “I’m going to be okay. I just want to be sure I don’t hurt you or anyone else in that state again.”

She nodded and smiled, kissing his cheek. “I just…want you to stop not telling me things.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, I don’t mean to keep secrets anymore, just…like I said, I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Or mine.”

“Okay…Well, let’s not get our hopes up and just…look forward to tomorrow,” she said brightly, patting his chest.

Nick smiled and nodded. “Till tomorrow.”

\--------------------------

When Nick woke to his alarm, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He didn’t feel off, he didn’t feel cold or foggy. He stood up and blinked blearily, fumbling to turn off the phone. Standing, he went to the bathroom to do his business and shower off quickly. When he looked in the mirror he turned his head left and right and didn’t see anything amiss.

“So far so good…” he muttered. He shaved and finished getting dressed.

“Nick?” Juliette called sleepily.

“Hey, I’m just getting ready for work. You still got a bit, keep sleeping.”

“Mmm…doing good?” she muttered.

“Doing good.” He kissed her temple. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay…” she sighed, settling back down.

Nick headed out, feeling more optimistic each step.

Getting to the station, Sloane and Hank were walking up as well.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Good, real good,” he smiled.

Sloane smiled a bit. “The meeting with Gallin went well then?”

“Yep. Got a wonder pill apparently.”

“Sorry, you’re on the pill?” Hank asked, only mostly joking.

“Ha ha,” Nick said. “No, it was a pill for the whole zombie thing…”

Hank sobered. “Oh, so that’s…gone?”

“I think so. Gallin said it wasn’t a sure thing, but I feel good,” he said, holding up his arms with a shrug. “No side effects yet.”

“Yet being the key word,” Hank said, brow pinched in worry. “Where did this medicine come from?”

“Not sure. Gallin said she had a contact.”

“And who’s “Gallin”?”

“Ah, right…” He glanced at Sloane who looked thoughtful before nodding and looking up at Hank.

“Gallin is a Grimm Librarian. She helps acquire information and weapons for Grimms. There’s at least one in each capital city in the US—and several in other major cities around the world. Cynthia Gallin is the one here in Portland.”

Hank blinked as he absorbed all that before nodding. “Okay then…so she also gets medicine?”

“She can,” Sloane said. “Rare weapons, rare ingredients, rare information—that’s what Librarians trade in. Most of them were raised somewhere close to Grimm life, but aren’t Grimms themselves so can’t really hunt the same way. Others are Grimms who retired or were…unable to continue actively hunting.”

“Well, I’m glad she found something,” Hank sighed. “I was getting worried that might be a permanent condition.”

“You and me both,” Nick said, heading to their desks.

“Don’t get too comfy,” Wu said, walking over. “We got a call just a bit ago, someone found dead in their home.”

“I take it they didn’t slip in the bathroom?” Sloane asked.

“Not unless they did it a bunch of times and their face ended up caved in,” he sighed. “I’ve heard its rough, so prepare yourselves.”

They all eyed one another as if to say “what else is new” and rose to head to Hank’s car for the day.

The scene was a townhouse on the fringe between the city and the suburbs, brownstone with brown brick accents and an iron fence around it. Inside seemed well cared for and lovingly decorated and not suspect at all—until they entered the master bedroom. There was a body on the floor, beaten badly, with blood spray and splatter all over the walls and the floor, but not up very high Sloane noted. This happened on the ground. The man’s face was all but unrecognizable, bloody and broken.

“Damn,” Hank said. “Whoever did this was angry…”

“No kidding,” Nick said. “Do we know who the vic is?”

“Yeah. Home owner, Michael Creek. 34, works as an investment banker,” Wu summed up.

“So the kind of guy that could make you very happy or very not happy,” Hank sighed.

“Who found the body?” Sloane asked.

Wu nodded to another room where a man with dark hair and hawkish nose. “His brother-in-law, Anthony Westerman. Came over about 7, they were supposed to go fishing together. Found him like this.”

“We got a time of death?” she asked.

The ME looked up. “My best estimate would be between 5 and 6 this morning.”

“So just before he came over supposedly…Could he have surprised the killer?” Nick asked.

“He didn’t say he saw anyone, but feel free to ask,” Wu said, leading them to the room.

Mr. Westerman looked up when the walked over. He was agitated, which could be understandable finding a dead body, but he was looking around like he wanted to get out of there. Again, dead body, but it was also a little strange how he kept flinching from the cops.

“Mr. Westerman?” Nick asked.

“Yes? I mean, hi…”

“Hi. I’m Detective Burkhardt; these are detectives Griffin and Larson. I realize you probably answered some questions already, but we’d like to talk to you.”

“Right…okay, sure.” He stood, breathing in and wiping his hands on his pants.  “Could we do this outside though? I just…I don’t think I can stay in here anymore, knowing Mike’s in there…like that…”

“Sure, okay. Out back?” Hank asked. Mr. Westerman nodded and headed out the back door with them to the deck overlooking the backyard. He took a deep breath once outside, running a hand over his face. “You need some water or something?”

“No…no, I’m…I’m just thinking how my wife’s going to feel…Mike was her only family left.”

“We’re sorry to hear that,” Nick said. “We understand you had a trip planned with Mr. Creek?”

“Yeah…yeah, we were going to go fishing. Start of the season.”

“Is that something you do often?” Sloane asked.

“At least once a year. Michelle—my wife—got us into it. Wanted us to get closer…He was a good guy…”

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Nick said. “Do you know anyone that would want to hurt Mr. Creek?”

“I mean…he had some angry clients I-I think…but I don’t know any by name, sorry. You, uh, you’d need his client list on his computer.”

Hank nodded to Wu behind them at the door to look for the computer. “No one else?”

“No…he’s a good guy…I just…My wife, she’s going to be so upset. What am I going to tell her? I-I can’t let her see him like this!”

“Calm down,” Nick said.

“I can’t, I just—he’s dead, there was blood, I just-” He suddenly croaked out a raspy caw, black feathers spreading from his neck up to the top of his head and a large black beak growing from his nose and mouth. He looked at Sloane and Nick and his beak opened in an alarmed squawk. “Grimms?!” He woged back and stumbled a little, flight or fight warring a bit.

“Whoa, okay, I know that sign,” Hank said. “Calm down, we’re all detectives, they’re not—”

Hank wasn’t able to finish his thought when Nick gave a shout and nearly toppled over. Sloane jumped in surprise and then quickly grabbed hold of him. “Nick? Nick?!”

“M…my eyes…” he gasped, holding his hand over them. “S-something’s wrong…” He looked up and Sloane tried hard not to react too much. Usually their eyes went completely black when they saw a wesen, or their irises turned black if they were heightening their senses. But the whites of Nick’s eyes were black, and the irises and pupils had turned a silvery white—like the full moon in the night sky.

“What the heck?” Hank breathed, looking over her shoulder. Sloane glanced back at him.

“You can see this too?”

“Y-yeah…Nick, what’s wrong?”

“Hurts…It feels like someone’s scraping the backs of my eyes with sandpaper!” he gasped. “It’s like the worms!”

Sloane felt worry come over her and then looked at Hank. “I need to get him to Gallin. This must be something with that treatment.”

Hank nodded, reaching into his pocket and handing her his keys. “Take the car, I’ll tell the others that one of you was feeling sick or something.”

She nodded and then looked back at Mr. Westerman. “You! Cooperate with him,” she ordered.

“Y-yes!”

Sloane put her arm around Nick’s shoulder and led him towards the gate nearby, past a couple of crime techs. Nick gave a small yelp when they came out from the shade of the trees and the sun beat down on him, covering his eyes. “The light…god, it’s so bright…” he hissed.

Sloane paused and pulled the hood of his windbreaker over his head. “Hold on till we get to the car, you can lie down in back…”

He nodded, following her to the car and lying down. “Nothing can go right, huh?” he said quietly.

“…We’ll fix this,” Sloane said, closing the door and getting in the driver’s side.

“This was supposed to be a fix…” he reminded her.

“You said she specified it was experimental. Maybe it needs an adjustment.”

“Hopefully…God, this I worse than before though. I’m conscious for this…”

“Suck it up,” she said, though it wasn’t as mean as the phrase might’ve sounded. She dug her phone out of her jacket and pulled up Gallin’s number, putting it on speaker.

“Hello, this is Cynthia Gallin at Sunset Shores Funeral-” she started, sounding professional.

“Gallin, it’s Sloane,” she said, getting the car into drive. “Nick is having one hell of a side effect and we need to see your contact, _ASAP!_ ”

“W-what?” she said. “Side effects? But, um…I don’t think she’ll see you directly, I c-can call her—”

“Gallin, if you do not tell me where to find her now, I will _make_ you,” Sloane growled.

There was a pause and Nick felt a little sorry for Gallin, imagining her very shaken. “I…If you can come pick me up, I-I can take you to her. Introduce you,” she said quietly.

“Fine. What’s your work address?”

“1782 River View…”

She plugged that into the GPS on her phone. “Be ready to go when I get there.” She ended the call and put pushed more firmly on the gas to speed up.

“S’not her fault, Sloane,” Nick said, trying to relax and not feel like he was going to vomit. It was too bright even behind his eyelids.

“She trusted this person to get you help, and I trusted her,” Sloane said. “So both of them are going to fix this. Just try to hold on.”

He hummed, breathing in deeply.

Sloane pulled up to the funeral home where Gallin worked, trying to break gently to not jostle Nick. Gallin was there, in bright pants suit, rushing over to climb in the front passenger seat. She glanced back at Nick and swallowed. “Wh…what happened exactly?”

“He saw a wesen woge and then his eyes…they don’t look right.”

“Don’t feel right either,” Nick said. “It’s gotten better, but they still hurt. The pain was awful for almost 10 minutes…And it felt like light was trying to stab me in the brain…I got my face covered and if I try to open my eyes for more than a few seconds it’s like an overload.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said honestly. “I-it was experimental…”

“Well she needs to fix it,” Sloane said. “Start directing me where to go.”

\--------------------

Monroe and Rosalee were showing Bart and Alice around the shop, the latter two curious about where Rosalee worked. “This is quite amazing,” Alice said, looking over the jars. “There’s not a lot of places like this left in the world…I remember my grandfather talking about their local apothecaries back in the day, who would help with wesen ailments.”

“Heck, my grandma was using lemon, clove and honey to treat nearly everything when I was a kid…” Bart agreed, sniffing a jar of cloves with a small smile.

“Well, there are still some things modern medicine hasn’t figured out,” Rosalee said lightly. “My father and brother were traditional, but I’m also trying to integrate a bit of the modern era too. I’ve been doing some stuff online and I’d like to make a website, but…that’s a bit complicated.”

“Oh, we know,” Alice sighed. “We’re still getting used to just using those new-fangled gadgets.”

“More headaches than they’re worth sometimes,” Bart said.

Monroe tried not to smile too much. He paused when his phone started ringing and gave an apologetic look as he pulled it out. He saw Hank’s name popped up. “I…should probably take this, hold on.” He moved away, accepting the call. “Hey, Hank. What’s up?”

“Uh…not something good I’m afraid,” he sighed.

“Wesen trouble?” he asked quietly. His parents were trying to be cool with this but he didn’t want to poke the jaegerbar.

“Not how you might be thinking. You know Nick was having some issues with going zombie still?”

“Yeah. Not often but yeah…”

“Well, Sloane got him in contact with someone to try and help, who contacted someone to find a treatment. And they did, but it either did not work as intended or it had some rough side effects. A suspect changed—er, woged—and Nick’s eyes…I could see it, it was freaky, man. And it hurt him.”

“Shit,” he bit out. “Is he okay? I mean, how bad?”

“Sloane got him out of there real quick and is going to track this person down to get him checked out. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I thought I should give you and Rosalee the heads up.”

“Yeah, we appreciate it. I’ll let her know and keep us updated if you can.”

“Of course. I better hit it; I’m flying solo on a case right now.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He hanged up and Monroe tapped his phone against his palm worriedly.

“Monroe?” Rosalee asked. “What’s wrong?”

“…Nick might be in a bit of trouble.”

“He’s not going to make you fight something again, is he?” Bart said.

“First, he doesn’t make me do anything,” Monroe said with a deadpanned expression. “Secondly, it’s not a fight. He took some medicine for a wesen-caused ailment and it’s not working…”

“The Post-Traumatic Zombification Disorder?” Rosalee said worriedly. Bart and Alice glanced at one another with eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. He’s apparently having some bad side effects. Sloane’s taking him to who made the medicine to get him checked out.”

Rosalee sighed. “I’ve been trying to find something as well…But there was nothing about Grimms being affected by a Cracher Mortal in my books. Most wouldn’t be concerned with curing one…”

“A Cracher Mortal? In Portland?” Alice asked in surprise.

“You’ve heard of them, mom?” Monroe asked, also surprised.

“Well…when I was younger, I went to the Caribbean on Spring Break one year in college,” she said slowly. “Haiti, more specifically. It was a popular destination then for tourists and I wasn’t sure about it but my friends convinced me. I’m not a big beach person but it seemed nice.”

“I remember seeing the pictures after we met,” Bart nodded, smiling a little. “Your cute little sunflower bikini…”

Alice smirked back and Monroe grunted as he tried not to imagine that. “And you met a Cracher Mortal?” he prompted.

“Briefly. He was a local doing these shows for tourists. Very hush hush kind of show about “voo doo”, though it was pretty obvious it wasn’t anything to do with what the locals believed and he didn’t want to get in trouble with them. One of my friends’ boyfriends started heckling him and he woged and spat at him. We all freaked out ran for it with him. Then he started…”

“We’ve seen what happens to people who get the spit,” Monroe said, nodding. “The whole zombie thing. But your friend, did he…?”

“We found the Cracher Mortal again and told him to fix Will or we’d call the cops. He came over and ground up a bunch of stuff, shook it in a bottle and made him drink it and Will was fine. We all decided to try and put that part of the trip behind us. I only found out what he was later when I asked around, I’d never seen one before.”

“Wait, he made some kind of cure? Do you have any idea what it was?” Rosalee asked.

“Not really,” she said, shrugging. “Not to date myself too much, but it was almost 30 years ago and I only saw a bunch of ground up bits and flower petals. Sorry…”

Rosalee shakes her head, disappointed but knowing it had been a long shot. “It’s alright…”

“Hey, your cure worked pretty dang good,” Monroe reminded her.

“Yeah, but one straight from the wesen’s mouth so to speak might’ve helped Nick…Grimms are just too different, I don’t think it had the same effect.”

Monroe nodded, knowing she was worried as much as he was. “At least we know there must be another kind of cure out there…”

\-----------------

Sloane followed Gallin’s directions towards the woods. “Your friend lives out here?”

“Yeah, she’s uh…not very social…” Gallin stammered. She was texting furiously on her phone, saying she wanted to give her contact the heads up they were coming.

Sloane glanced at her out of the corner of her eye before turning back to the front. “You seem more nervous than usual…”

Gallin gripped her phone a little tighter. “…I…may not have been up front about her…”

“How so?” Sloane asked. Her tone left no room for trying to escape again.

“…She is…Her name’s Gwyneth Zima…She knows a lot of old wesen medicine…I thought she’d be able to help.”

“…How does she know wesen medicine?”

“…S…she is one…” she said quietly.

“…Okay.”

Gallin blinked and then looked at her. “…Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“…You’re not angry?”

“…” Sloane sighed and slowed the car just slightly so she didn’t miss the elusive turn she’d been looking out for. “I’ve been working with wesen for a few months. Nick since he inherited.”

“Yeah,” Nick piped up, having stayed quiet for a while. “I’m invited to a wesen wedding soon by one of my best friends. I’m the best man actually if things work out. He’s a Blutbad marrying a Fuchsbau.”

Gallin looked between them both in confusion. “I…are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“But you-you are one of the most notorious hunters today!”

“Not lately,” Sloane said simply. “I’ve pretty much set up roots here. The Fuchsbau marrying the Blutbad is my best friend. And I even honestly like the Blutbad…”

“This was after a lot of threatening to kill him,” Nick clarified.

“Well yeah, Rome wasn’t built in a day…”

Gallin’s jaw dropped open. “You are…friends with a Blutbad?”

“Yep. Gallin, is that turn anywhere around here?”

“I…I’m sorry, I’m still a little reeling—”

“Reel later, turn where?” Sloane bit out, losing patience.

“U-up ahead, on the right!” Sloane saw the turn and slowed again to head down a barely kept road through the trees. It was quiet a moment before Gallin said quietly. “So you won’t kill her?”

Sloane arched her brow and glanced at her again. “…If she doesn’t give me a reason to, no. Plus, she needs to fix Nick.”

“Yeah, that would be appreciated…” Nick sighed.

“Okay…good…” she sighed. “I just…you’re known for…”

“…I know my reputation,” Sloane said. “And I plan to keep it that way, so there will be no telling anyone I’ve gone soft.”

“R-right, of course,” she said quickly.

They were quiet again Sloane followed the somewhat windy road to some of the hills beyond. Finally, a large, modern looking mansion came into view. It was sleek and angular, white concrete pillars and shaded glass, inspired obviously by Frank Lloyd Wright.

“This is pretty out of the way…” Sloane said as she parked the car.

“Like I said, she’s not much for people…” Gallin said, unhooking her seatbelt.

Nick sat up and took Sloane’s jacket off his face. He blinked blearily and grunted. It wasn’t as bad as it was before but the light was still hard on his eyes. Sloane got out and went to the back, opening the door for him. “How are you doing?”

“Still feels bad, but I don’t want to stab my eyes out…” he said tiredly.

She nodded and helped him out, putting his hand on her shoulder so he wouldn’t have to keep his eyes open too long at a time. They headed up to the door and Gallin pressed the button on the video doorbell at the front. “Gwyn? It’s us…”

“I realized. Come in.” A smooth, sultry voice came over the intercom, not really caring about the urgency. There was a click as the door unlocked remotely.

“We didn’t really have time to grab better jackets, so…Just brace yourselves,” Gallin said.

They weren’t sure what she meant until she opened the door and a blast of cold air hit them. “Whoa,” Nick said as they crossed the threshold. “It’s like an icebox in here!” The house seemed normal otherwise. It was two stories and the stairs were just to the side of them. With the modern build, they were made to look almost like they were floating in midair suspended from wires from the ceiling. The bottom floor was open and cavernous in it’s minimalism with white marble floors. The walls that weren’t huge windows were painted a creamy white with modern art in splatters of color hanging over it. Crescent shaped couch was actually sunken into the floor, made in white leather with the floor beneath it a blue shag rug.

“…What kind of wesen is she?” Sloane asked.

“She’s-”

“You don’t have a guess?” They looked up at the top of the staircase to see a tall, willowy woman standing in just a slinky nightgown in a shade of blue and a black silken robe despite the chill. Her hair was long and blonde and she was very lovely with wide eyes and pouty lips. Gallin was blushing looking up at her, and swallowed, looking nervous.

Sloane eyed her, keeping Nick behind her. “…There are plenty of wesen that like the cold.”

She smiled and padded down the steps. “True, but Cynthia said you were knowledgeable. I thought you might be able to put it together.”

She huffed a bit. “Listen, I stopped assuming I know anything about anything when I watched this shmuck fight a living, walking lava monster,” she gestured at Nick. Nick mouthed _shmuck_ in confusion and a little amusement despite the situation. “And then we dealt with Zombies, serial killers, Royals and a bunch of other BS. I’m not really in the 20 questions mood so woge or do whatever you gotta do to get this show on the road.”

Gallin looked at her in mortification but Gwyneth laughed. The laugh felt sharp and brittle like ice and Sloane frowned on instinct. “I suppose that’s fair. Well, just so we’re on even ground, knowing what I know about you…” She woged and it wasn’t the volatile twitch many wesen displayed. Instead it was like frost gathering on her skin—turning it a pale, translucent blue as it spread. Her hair seemed to retreat, replaced by long icicles in pure white like sloping quills, and flecks of ice clung to her skin. Further shards of ice grew from her forehead and strangely it was almost like a crown around her head. Her eyes became so white they seemed to glow, her pupils blue instead of black.

Sloane gaped, slacked in shock. “A…A Glitrende Hud?”

“Bless you,” Nick said, keeping his eyes tightly shut. “I take it you do know what she is?”

“Yes…a very rare wesen with a special affinity for ice and snow. They can actually freeze things, almost like liquid nitrogen. I’ve heard they age much slower than the normal person…” she recited, keeping her eyes on the wesen.

Gwyneth woged back and smiled. “Asking a woman her age? Very forward of you.”

“Just saying what I’ve heard…” She looked at Gallin. “How do you and she know each other?”

Gallin blushed. “I…I’ve been trying to research certain wesen. I managed to find a deep web message board talking about different wesen conditions and Gwyn was a member.”

“I prefer online interactions to face to face when I can help it,” she said, walking forward. “Cynthia was wonderfully curious and keen to learn so we had a few more private chats.” Gallin blushed again and it was no wonder the cold of the house wasn’t bothering her. “My specialty was researching wesen illnesses. Both caused by wesen and afflicted to them.”

“So Gallin came to you to see if you could help me,” Nick surmised.

“Indeed. I work from home so I can keep my own schedule. I usually sleep most of the day so excuse my state of undress.”

Sloane didn’t buy that she had no time to change given Gallin had been texting her but didn’t say so.

“That’s not why I have my eyes closed…” Nick sighed. “Sorry to say there’s some side effects. I saw someone woge and I thought my eyes were going to leave my head. Almost wished they did if it would stop hurting.”

“Hmmm…that is a problem, especially for a Grimm,” she said, though she sounded more inquisitive than concerned. She walked over and Sloane eyed her but didn’t stop her as she set a hand on Nick’s face. “Can you open them now?” Nick took a breath but cracked his eyes open. He looked like he was staring at the sun, squinty and pained. His sclera was still a dark gray but his eyes were slowly going back to normal it seemed. Gwyn hummed leaning in close enough Nick tensed. “Odd…Let me change. Cynthia, show them to the work room.” She turned and headed back up the stairs, still elegant and calm. Sloane would’ve appreciated a bit more urgency.

“Um, this way,” Gallin said. She led them down the hall and to a metal door. Opening it up, they stepped into a room that looked like a combination of the spice shop work area, a laboratory, and a doctor’s office. There were metal shelves with small drawers, all labeled and clean, and metal tables, a dishwasher, a fridge, and a couple of cabinets. It wasn’t quite as cold inside—more like a comfortable room temperature.

“…So she really is kind of a researcher?” Nick asked, looking around blearily.

“Yes. She, um, is older than she looks. She’s collected a lot of knowledge over the years and works to figure out old and new cures for wesen conditions.”

“Well she messed up this one,” Sloane said, glaring a bit at the door.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her,” Gallin reminded her.

“I said I wouldn’t kill her if she didn’t give me a reason,” Sloane clarified.

Nick sighed and sat down. His eyes were back to normal but he looked tired and drained. “I get this isn’t a normal situation so I can’t fault her…”

“You’re too understanding still,” Sloane sighed. “But fine. I’ll try to keep calm.”

Her version of calm was tapping her foot as she waited and glared at the door. Finally Gwyn arrived and opened the door to step in and Sloane barely kept from commenting on what took her so long. She was dressed in long tan-colored slacks and a black long sleeved shirt, her hair pulled back in a bun. “Alright…I’m going to have to recreate what happened if I’m going to be able to try and figure this out.”

Nick looked put out, having just finally gotten back to normal, but nodded. “Okay…”

She walked over and looked him in the eyes before woging again. Nick’s eyes went black, like they should, but then his irises and pupils seemed to burn through the black in a bright white. He gripped the side of the table, having tried to brace himself for it, but the pain still nearly knocked him off his feet. He was sweating with exertion and tried to keep eye contact with her before groaning and closing them. Sloane pressed a hand to his back and tried not to look as worried as she felt when his tense muscles felt like stone. Gwyn hummed, straightening and changing back. “Interesting…Something in the treatment must be reacting negatively with your Grimm biology…”

“Kind of figured that one out,” Sloane said, crossing her arms.

“Well, I’d been doing research on the Cracher Mortal on and off every few years. Their venom isn’t easy to come across on the market and they don’t sell often. I tweaked my original findings to take into account that he’s a Grimm and still experiencing the effects…” She went over and started taking out ingredients from various slots and equipment from drawers. From a shelf she took down a binder and flipped to a page that had her notes scrawled over it. Let’s check and tweak this a bit…”

Sloane sat down on the stool next to Nick’s, watching her work with narrowed eyes. She had promised Gallin not to hurt her, but that didn’t mean she trusted her. Glitrende Hud were cold—in powers and in nature. She’d read plenty of accounts of them killing people with a touch, as though their entire body went through hypothermia in an instant. And at times even further. One book described opening a victim up to find their organs were nearly frozen. Not a pleasant way to die and she didn’t want to be on the receiving end if she let her guard down.

She worked quickly but more out of practice than any kind of urgency. Efficient, practical, and only pausing for moments as if to consider a change. It was maybe about two hours before she pulled a mirror-like marble out of the crucible.

“That looks like it did before…” Nick said hesitantly.

“I altered it slightly. I think the gist of what it was supposed to do—leveling out your transformations—was successful or you would’ve likely gone into your dissociative fugue state at the pain you said you were experiencing. We’re looking now to even out whatever it’s doing to your eyes when wesen transform,” Gwyn said, rolling the round pill around in a pan of soft, white powder. She then plucked it up and held it out to him, the powder absorbing into it so the mirrored finished was visible again. “Let’s see if round two is more successful.”

Nick was a bit more hesitant but held out his hand. It felt heavier strangely, and he eyed it. “And if this makes things worse?”

Gwyn didn’t look insulted or concerned. “We cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Sloane was dubious but Nick sighed and put the pill into his mouth and swallowed. There really weren’t many options at this point. “…How long till it takes effect?”

“Should be fairly quick…” Gwyn said.

Nick remembered that look from the time he took the potion to help cure Juliette and just like that time, it hit him like a mule and he had to grip the side of the counter. It felt like someone had dowsed him with ice water, then boiling water, then ice water again. Just as fast his vision was flashing light, dark, black, light, dark, black. Then he felt like someone was gripping his heart in a vice and he yelled and tipped off the stool. Sloane grabbed him before he hit the floor and managed to ease him down, but he was tense and shaking and his eyes were flashing between clear and black like a strobe light. He was shaking but trying to focus and reach for her and grabbing the front of her jacket. “I…I can’t breathe…My heart…”

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Sloane yelled, looking at Gwyn like she was ready to tear her apart.

“Give it a moment,” she said coolly. “Let’s see where this goes…”

“It’s going to kill him! And then I’m going to kill you!”

“Sloane!” Gallin said pleadingly.

Just then Nick’s shaking stopped and Sloane’s attention snapped to him with a lurch of her own heart. But he was still breathing, so that was an immediate relief. But he was staring blankly up at her. “Nick? Nick, you…hey!” she reached up to gently tap his cheek. He didn’t react.

Gwyn hummed and kneeled down to take his pulse. “His heart is beating but rather slow…same for his breathing.” She looked at his eyes and she let him move his head like he had no ability to resist. He just gave her the same glassy expression. “…Well, it seems the second dose took his cognitive abilities down to almost zero. He’s breathing on his own for now so that’s good.”

“For now? That’s good?! I am going to—” Sloane started, looking ready grab her by the throat.

Gallin put a hand on her shoulder. “Sloane, don’t! She might be the only one that can help!”

“We’ve seen her help so far and it’s made him catatonic!” She said back.

Gwyn just stood. “I’m doing what I can with what I know and what I have on hand. But it may be beyond me right now.”

“Well you better fix what’s wrong with him now!”

“Maybe it’ll go away over time?” Gallin said, trying to diffuse and calm Sloane down.

“Likely not, my goal is permanency. I’m not the sort to keep making doses for someone, I want permanent solutions.”

“Well this isn’t a solution and it better not be permanent, for your sake,” Sloane said darkly.

Gwyn looked at her with a pinched expression before finally folding her arms. “Quite frankly, I don’t think I can help him. I’m not a doctor, this is a hobby. I tried my best—”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Sloane spat.

“Then maybe you should take your catatonic friend and go?” she said coolly. “I’m under no obligation to help a couple of Grimms; I just thought it was interesting.”

“No obligation—you’re playing around did this to him!” Sloane made a move for her, reaching over Nick ready to try and grab her. Without even blinking she grabbed Sloane’s wrist and just her hand woged, turning blueish-white and a piercing cold went through her skin. Sloane didn’t scream—she’d been taught not to scream—but she had to trap the reaction behind her teeth.

“You’re not welcome here anymore,” she said, her breath coming out in white puffs, not of steam but of frosting the air.

Gallin looked panicked before quickly pulling at Sloane’s arm. Gwyn hesitated but let go and Sloane grunted at the cracking sound like chipping ice as her fingers moved to let go. Sloane glared daggers, wanting badly to fight her, but Nick was in no condition to be in the middle of a fight.

“Gwyn, please—” Gallin started.

“I did what I could. Help her get him out, you can find someone else.” She stood, shaking her hand out as she rose to return it to its flesh tone.

Sloane pulled Nick up and she was surprised when he stood but he was still staring at her blankly. “Nick?” He didn’t say anything back. She frowned and reached down to tug at his wrist. He followed wordlessly, all the way back through the house and out to the car. When she opened the front passenger side of the car he didn’t react. “…Nick? Um…can you get in the car?” He didn’t say anything.

“What’s happened to him? He can move but he’s…” Gallin said. “Maybe we should go back, ask Gwyn for more help. I’m sure if you apologize—”

“I’m not asking your sociopathic girlfriend for more help,” Sloane bit out.

Gallin blushed. “Sh-she isn’t—we aren’t—”

Sloane took a deep breath to try and steady her fraying nerves. “Gallin, I’m not that good at romance and attraction, but you are worse at hiding it,” she said as patiently as she could. “I’m not going to say I get the attraction to her, because I think she’s got the personality of cat that likes to toy with small creatures. But I’m not apologizing to her when she said this was done because it was _interesting_. Nick isn’t a lab rat! And for god’s sake, Nick, get in the car!”

And with that, Nick moved into the car and sat in the passenger seat.

Sloane paused. “…Buckle your seatbelt.”

He did.

“…Stick out your tongue.”

He did.

“Stop that.”

He did.

“…Gallin, tell him to do something.”

“What?”

“Order him to do something. I’m ordering you to order him to do something.”

“Uh…okay. Um, Nick, uh…clap your hands once?” He did. “Clap twice.” He did. “Bark like a dog.” He did and Sloane put her hand on Gallin’s shoulder before she could say anything else.

“…Oh god dammit,” Sloane sighed.

\----------------------------

Rosalee was finishing up to lunch with Monroe and his parents at a nice burger place when her phone rang with Sloane’s number. She excused herself and walked outside. “Sloane?”

“Rosalee, we got a big issue,” she said. “Can you meet us at the shop?”

She was on alert immediately and stood, nodding to the others at the table and walking over to a secluded corner. “I should be able to. What’s happened?”

“Nick is worse than before,” she said. “The one that made that first dose gave him another bit and now it’s…look, she’s not going to help us more, I need to bring him to the shop and get your help.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. Sloane sounded more on edge than ever so it must’ve been bad. “Are you heading there now?”

“Yeah, we just got back to the city, about twenty minutes away.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

“See you.”

She hanged up and walked back in as urgently but calmly as she could. Monroe saw the look on her face and almost rose up to meet her, turning his chair out. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Nick,” she said quietly. “Sloane said he’s in bad shape, we need to meet them at the shop.”

Monroe nodded and stood but then looked around. “We gotta pay and run-”

“We have this,” Alice said. “Go, we’ll meet up later.”

Monroe smiled at his parents gratefully and rushed back out to his car with Rosalee. He drove as much over the speed limit as he could without getting pulled over and maybe took a liberty with a stop light or two.

When they got to the shop, Sloane was waiting outside with Nick and a woman they hadn’t met before. “Well, he’s standing,” Monroe said, getting out with Rosalee. “Guys?”

The woman jumped, eyeing them both a little hesitantly as they walked up. Sloane sighed when she saw them. “Hey…” Getting closer, Monroe could tell there was something wrong with Nick. He was standing but was glassy-eyed and lax.

“Nick? Buddy?” Monroe said. Nick responded to his name but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s…get inside and I’ll explain…” Sloane sighed, looking tired. Rosalee nodded and opened the door, heading inside with them and to the side room. “Nick, sit in that chair.”

Nick sat down, looking not at attention but not relaxed either. It was like he was just…there.

“What happened?” Rosalee asked, looking him over worriedly.

“Sloane alienated your friend’s best chance—” Gallin started. She immediately clamped her mouth shut when Sloane turned her gaze to her, squeaking that she’d said it out loud.

“You’re friend did that all on her own pissing me off and not taking this seriously,” she said darkly. “I trusted you to help Nick and you got some hobby scientist glitrende hud, so do not even think of putting blame on me.”

“Glitrende Hud?” Monroe asked in surprise. “There’s one of those in Portland?”

“In the woods, yeah,” Sloane said. She pulled back her sleeve with a grimace, showing the red-purple bruise in the shape of a hand, the beginnings of 1st degree frostbite. Rosalee gasped and quickly went over to gently take her arm to look it over. “I got away with that, but her second dose of “medicine” did…this to Nick.” She gestured to him. “Nick, raise your right arm.” He did so, surprising Monroe. “Now lower it halfway…Give a thumbs up.”

“What…is going on?” Monroe said worriedly.

“The second dose took away his free will it seems,” Sloane said.

“How much?”

Sloane paused but then went over. “Nick…slap me in the face.”

“Wait-”

Sloane didn’t even bother protecting herself, rolling with the slap when Nick’s hand shot out across her cheek. “…Yeah, it’s pretty gone,” she said, blinking past the sting.

“I would’ve taken your word for it,” Monroe said.

“I wanted to test it too,” she said, rubbing her cheek with a sigh. He hit hard, but not too hard. “The Glitrende Hud said she tries to make her “cures” permanent, so this is a huge problem. If Nick can take the order to hurt someone, he’s dangerous to everyone right now. Especially if the royals want to get to him again.”

“Wait, what?” Gallin asked.

“Long story, later. Rosalee, can you help him?”

Rosalee looked him over again, frowning. “I…I’ll go over all the notes I have, but this is a bit tougher…I don’t know what she gave him.”

Sloane looked at Gallin. “Do you know the recipe?”

“No…Gwyn doesn’t really share notes when she’s experimenting. If she finds something that works she might, but when she’s not sure she tends to keep her notes close…” Gallin said.

She sighed and leaned against the table.

“…We need to call Juliette,” Monroe said.

“Right, probably a good idea,” Rosalee said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll go call her, maybe she can come over.”

“I agree she should know but I don’t think true love will cure this one…” Sloane sighed.

“You never know?” Monroe said, sounding hopeful as he looked at Nick worriedly.

Gallin looked at him. “…Are you really a Blutbad?”

Monroe looked up and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

Gallin looked at Sloane. “…I never thought you would…be friends with wesen, Sloane. I mean, the first time I met you, you were covered in blood from a hunt…”

“Thanks for bringing that up,” Sloane muttered, straightening. “Trust me; I didn’t think I’d be here back when we first met either. Life is…strange.”

“…Dierdre would probably kill you,” she said quietly.

Sloane frowned deeper. “And that is why she is not going to find out, _right_?” she said meaningfully.

Gallin paled and held up her hands quickly in a placating move. “Y-yes, I’m not going to tell her…”

“When did you guys meet?” Monroe asked curiously. “You seem to know each other.”

“Uh…I was 13, Diedre and I went to meet up with the Librarian in Springfield, Massachusetts—” Sloane started.

“Missouri. It was Missouri.”

“What? No, it was Massachusetts…”

“No, Springfield, Missouri. I know, I grew up there,” Gallin pointed out, a tad more defiant.

“…Oh…Sorry, it’s been a while,” Sloane said, looking a bit awkward. “But anyway, she was apprenticed to her uncle as a Librarian, I was there with Dierdre.”

“We were about the same age so I tried to make friends…you weren’t really in the friend mood then,” she said quietly, glancing at Monroe and Rosalee.

Sloane frowned, trying not to feel a little guilty. She remembered being very brisk with Gallin then, brushing her aside when she tried to talk to her. She honestly didn’t know most of what she was talking about—tv shows and movies and something called Pokémon—so she wasn’t even sure where to start. It didn’t matter much anyway, they were there for a few weeks and then gone again.  “…It wasn’t a great time for friends,” she said. She glanced at Nick, worried again. She didn’t want to lose the friends she had though.

“…I guess not,” Gallin conceded. “…I…I’ll try to talk to Gwyn, smooth things over. Maybe get the recipe at least.”

Sloane frowned. “Alright, but I’ll be honest, Gallin, I’m not sure I trust her…or at least trust she has anyone’s best interests in mind.”

“I do,” she said, crossing her arms. “Are you judging her because she’s a Glitrende Hud?”

“…A little, yes, but also she didn’t make a great first impression I might point out.”

“Yeah, they are kind of known for being _cold_ and calculating,” Monroe said. Sloane gestured at Monroe in an _I told you so_ fashion, glad the Blutbad was backing her up.

“She’s just…proud. You should get that.” Sloane frowned more when she gestured at her. “But she’s nice deep down. I’ll get her to help, _again._ ”

“Yes, because she was a great help this time,” Sloane sarcastically.

She glared and spun on her heal, marching to the door. “She would’ve figured it out if it wasn’t for you making things worse! I’ll just go get this done myself and you’ll see.”

“…I’m your ride, aren’t I?” Sloane pointed out a bit testily.

“I’ll call an Uber back to work and get my car,” she said, pulling the door closed behind her forcefully.

Monroe pursed his lips and then looked at Sloane. “That…could’ve gone better.”

Sloane rolled her eyes as she pulled out her phone. “Nick, give Monroe a rude gesture for me, I need to call Hank.”

\-------------------------------

Juliette had to finish up some emergency work at the vet’s office before she got Rosalee’s message. Then she’d immediately rushed out of work ahead of the late afternoon traffic. Juliette rushed over to Nick the moment she was through the door. “Nick? Nick, are you…” He stared up at her blankly. Juliette looked even more anxious, smoothing back his hair a little. “You…you really weren’t kidding, it’s like he’s a doll…”

“That’s part of the problem,” Rosalee sighed, pushing one book away and grabbing the next in a pile. “Whatever this is, it’s suppressed his emotions and his free will.”

“Super dangerous combination,” Monroe said. “I got nothing on that, and I doubt any Grimm texts will either. We’re trying to figure out anything from some of Rosalee’s texts…”

“But this isn’t exactly a common malady,” Rosalee finished.

“So what do we do?” Juliette asked, taking Nick’s hand to hold as she looked at them.

“Right now, we’re researching. I’m making notes, but we don’t know what was in that original dose.”

“Hank’s covering at the station,” Sloane supplied. “He’s let Renard know some of what’s going on and is buying us time before a lot of questions are asked. Said Nick and I got food poisoning from bad breakfast tacos, bought us some time.”

“Could Renard help? Or a hexenbeast?”

“I’d prefer to leave that for a last resort,” Sloane said honestly. “But if so…I guess that one we helped with the book does owe us a favor.” She glanced at Rosalee.

“Angela? Maybe…but this is less hexenbeast magic and more…alchemy or more like what I do. But extreme.”

“Well, Hexenbeast magic would be an extreme solution,” Monroe reasoned.

Sloane sighed but then pulled out her phone again, dialing Renard’s number.

“Sloane. How’s Nick doing?” Renard asked. He didn’t exactly sound worried, but maybe there was a touch of concern. It was hard to tell.

“No improvement. We’re still looking through Rosalee’s books, but…Your friend Angela, is she around?”

“I’m afraid she’s away at the moment,” he said. “She’s visiting some family in Vietnam and won’t be back till next week.”

“Oh, well, that’s great…” she sighed.

“You all must be desperate to want a Hexenbeast to help,” he said slowly.

“Just fielding our options,” she said, trying to sound chipper.

“Uh huh. I’ll ask around. But anyone else, they may have a higher price in return. That’s assuming they’d even help him.”

“Yeah, no. I’d rather not bring a stranger into his,” she sighed.

“Alright. If I think of anyone or anything else, I’ll call,” he said, sounding more genuine.

“Okay…thanks,” she said, hanging up. “So, that’s a no go. The one hexenbeast I would maybe be okay with is out of the country till next week.”

“Dammit,” Monroe growled.

“He’s going to be okay,” Juliette said, squeezing Nick’s hand. “We’ll figure this out…right?”

Rosalee tried to smile. “Of course…but I don’t know how long it might take. I think for now, someone should be with him at all times. And…we’re going to have to monitor him and make sure he eats and takes care of himself.”

“It’s like having a baby but with less crying,” Monroe said. “Well, from Nick…”

Sloane looked at Nick again, and Juliette fretting over him, rubbing over his hand and arm as if to comfort him though she was the one needing comfort. Nick’s glassy eyes were haunting in a way—like when he’d become enraged, yet without even that emotion or the paleness of his skin to give away his condition. It was jus like someone had flipped a switch and turned off the light inside his eyes. She didn’t like it.

“…I’m going to go see if I can get some more information. Maybe the book on the Cracher Mortal at the trailer has some info we over looked.”

“Maybe. Do you want some company?” Monroe asked.

“No, just let me borrow the key and I’ll be back a little later.”

He nodded, pulling the key off his key ring and handing it to her. Rosalee put a hand on her shoulder. “Call us if you find anything or need us.”

Sloane tried to smile. “I think Nick needs you more right now…” she said honestly. Sloane turned to head out to her car. She sat for a moment, breathing deeply and fingering the key. Finally she sighed and put the key in her glovebox, reversing and heading back out to the highway.

\--------------------

Gallin had to take care of some things at work—after all she was a mortician, there were bodies waiting to be taken care of in the freezer—before heading back out to Gwyn’s home in the woods about 2 hours later than she wanted. The time to think didn’t help her calm down. She was too nervous to call her first. She was always nervous it felt. Being the only non-Grimm in her family, she’d never been taught to be brave. Or taught much at all.

She sighed and tried not to think on that. It was a familiar route, one she’d worked through in therapy. But that didn’t stop the desperate need sometimes to do _something_ when she could. But this didn’t turn out like she’d hoped. She’d hoped maybe to get someone on her side about Gwyn—maybe not other wesen, but Gwyn specifically. And then it ends up that Sloane, who she’d always wanted to impress, was suddenly…okay with wesen? Best friends with them?! _With a Blutbad?!_

It burned a little, she had to admit. Burned more how she was so open with them, so caring or at least more caring than she’d ever seen before. She’d seen it before when they were experimenting with Nick’s transformation, how she tried to make it better for him and protect him at her own expense. How she’d smiled and joked freely with him.

It had been a surprise when Sloane first came to the library. It’d been almost 14 years since they’d last seen one another and they’d both changed, but she could still recognize her. Sloane took a while to remember her name and even then kept calling her Gallin even when she said she could call her by her first name. Sloane had said she needed something for a wesen made out of fire basically because otherwise an idiot new Grimm was going to get himself killed. They’d traded—information on the Volcanalis for the foam grenades—and she’d headed back out without many pleasantries even if she was respectful. Then months later she called again and the difference was startling. She was still in Portland, which was a shock, and she was asking for more help for a friend—and it struck Gallin how she’d said a friend. It was honest. She honestly cared about him and there was a hint of worry in her voice. And she remembered trying to get any kind of response out of her when they first met and being met with annoyance and barely tolerance. It stung a little.

But then, she also remembered Dierdre. Sloane’s mentor was…well, it explained why Sloane was how she was as a kid. Maybe more than a decade away from her influence was finally being undone. Even so, to befriend wesen? Sloane Larson, one of the finest Grimms of their generation, going soft? Maybe this was good though.  Gallin thought she was alone, thought she’d be ousted even more from the community like Marie Kessler was after she claimed to love a Steinadler.

She blushed on reflex thinking about if she said she loved Gwyn. Then worried more about what Sloane said.

Gallin almost missed the turn in the woods and headed back up to the house. She pressed the button the video doorbell once again.  It was a wait in silence and she bit her lip, hoping that Gwyn would still accept her company after the issues earlier.

She jumped when the door opened and Gwyn looked at her coolly. “Cynthia…Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“I…I wanted to apologize for Sloane. She can be a hot head, but she’s just worried…” She looked down, wringing her purse strap. “I…I still think you’re our best chance to figure this out.”

“…Come in,” Gwyn said, turning to head back inside. Gallin quickly headed in and closed the door behind her. Gwyn walked over to her immaculate, modern kitchen with perfect white countertops and gray cabinets, opening a wine fridge and pulling out a bottle of merlot. The red as she poured it into a glass was startling amongst all the white. She gestured to the glass and Gallin shook her head, not feeling like drinking. Gwyn recorked the bottle and set it aside, sighing and leaning against the counter as she sipped. “Cynthia…Clarify something for me. Why do you care about that Grimm?”

“Huh?”

Gwyn swirled the wine thoughtfully. “You don’t know him well, correct? So why do you care?”

“I…well, he needs help,” she said, trying not to sound like a question.

The other woman sighed and took a longer sip as if to compose herself. “Very noble, but that’s too much to go through for a stranger.”

Gwyn frowned a bit. “…Because Sloane wants to help him,” she finally said a bit more honestly.

“Hmmm. You’re still trying to prove yourself to you and your family and anyone else who knows you’re not a Grimm.”

“Gwyn, I told you that—” she started, blushing.

“It’s true though,” she said, setting the glass down and walking over. She reached up and set a chilled hand on her cheek, making her blush more. “Dearest Cynthia…you need to stop being that little girl desperate for approval from everyone.”

“Y…you’re not my therapist, Gwyn, I told you that in confidence…”

“And I’m telling you this for your own good,” she said more firmly. She leaned in, brushing their lips together and Gallin sighed at the slightly chilled but soft feeling of them. But Gwyn didn’t go further, backing away to keep talking. “Stop putting yourself out there for people who aren’t going to give you anything in return. It’s sad and it gets you into trouble.”

Gallin looked down a bit. “…I just…thought we could help…”

“I could help you mean,” she said, taking her hands away. “You were the middle man in this case.”

“Okay, yes, that you could help! And he still needs help! I mean…it’s interesting, isn’t it? You always complain about nothing being interesting anymore. I thought you would enjoy helping…you did all those tests on his blood…”

Gwyn sighed again. “I did what I could but without keeping him here I don’t have many options to keep treating him. And I don’t think that other Grimm is keen on letting me keep him. Pity, having a Grimm in hands…I could’ve maybe discovered a few other things,” she mused.

Gallin had to admit, the way she said that gave her a bad feeling. “Gwyn…?” She jumped when a chime went through the house.

“Another visitor?” Gwyn said, looking put out. She walked back to the door and pulled it open. “Oh. Well, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Sloane eyed her and sighed, looking profoundly uncomfortable. “Can we talk?”

She looked her over before turning. “I suppose. I was just speaking with Cynthia.” Gallin blanched a bit when Sloane walked in but she Sloane just nodded to her and turned to address Gwyn.

“I have someone looking over Nick and what…happened,” she said, trying very hard to be delicate and not state blame. “We might be able to figure something, but she needs to know what you used.”

Gwyn hummed, still unruffled but thoughtful. She glanced at Gallin and then smirked. “So…you still need my help?”

Sloane sighed. “In a way, yes…though I would settle for your notes.”

“And you think your friend can manage this?”

“She managed to find a cure the Cracher Mortal’s other victims,” Sloane said, smiling in a bit of pride. “And Nick’s girlfriend figured out how to turn it into a gas for easier treatment.”

“…Well that is rather impressive, I admit,” she said, frowning a little.

“So give us your notes, we’ll figure it out more, and we’ll share it with you,” Sloane said. “You can still research, but have help.”

She frowned more, her finger tapping against her forearm. “…No.”

Gallin looked at her in surprise. “What? But Gwyn—”

“That’s not really enough for me. I prefer having my hands working in what I do, and I’m not going to just trust my notes with anyone. If you brought your friend back, maybe left him with me—”

“Yeah, no,” Sloane cut her off. “I’m not “leaving him” with you, and neither would any of the others. If you want to work with them, you’ll have to either let Rosalee in here or preferably come to her. One of us is always present, and we part ways when Nick is cured.”

Gwyn looked at her with an outright sneer. “I’m not putting myself to your level.”

They glared at one another and Gallin looked between them worried. “Gwyn…I know you can do this, b-but maybe working together would be best?”

“I can do this,” she acknowledged. “I know what I need, it would be easier if…Hmmm…” she turned thoughtful again and then a smile spread over her lips. “Well…actually, there may be something we can work out.”

Sloane had a bad feeling but kept her face a mask of neutrality. “Work out how?”

Gwyn sauntered past her, pacing as she talked. “Well, as you surmised, I’m much older than I look. My kind age much more slowly—it’s almost a form of cryogenics just naturally in our bodies. So I’ve had a lot of time to acquire my knowledge and resources. I actually make my money in antiques. Typically I buy something cheap and wait a few years. Then I got into herbology and wesen illnesses and collected many things regarding that.”

“Fascinating,” Sloane said blandly. “I take it this is leading somewhere?”

“Oh let me brag a little, dear, I don’t get to do it in person often. But fine. Years ago, I had an apprentice, let’s say. She was very bright, very enthusiastic. We worked on many things together and we were…close.”

“…Like friends or more?”

“We blurred the lines a bit,” she said with a mischievous smile. Gallin blushed and felt suddenly disappointed as well. She had not known there had been others.

“Lady, I was helped raised by a couple of lesbians and I’ve slept with women before, you can’t really scandalize me,” Sloane scoffed. Gallin was looking at her in shock again but she kept her gaze on the wesen in front of her. “What does this have to do with now?”

Gwyn pouted but sighed. “Well, I suppose it was…40 years ago now, she betrayed me. I had a greenhouse at my old residence where I grew my plants that I used for my experiments.”

“…I’ll be honest, you don’t seem like the green thumb sort,” Sloane said.

“I’m not. It was a pain for a long time trying to do it myself. She—Lucretia—took care of the plants after we met. And now I contract that work out at a separate facility. My touch is a little too dangerous for plants,” she sighed. “Lucretia was quite good with them. And then…she burned it down,” she growled, a flash of anger going over her face.

Sloane frowned. “Why?”

“I have no idea,” she said flippantly. “She’d managed to drug me and I woke up in the night to a fire and her gone. The only thing I can think of is greed because she also stole some of my most rare samples when she disappeared. But I finally tracked her down recently.”

“…You’ve been hunting for her for 40 years?” Sloane asked. “I am a Grimm and that seems freaking excessive.”

She leveled an icy gaze at Sloane and the hunter had to admit some part of her tensed up at the look. “My kind don’t trust easily, so betrayal cuts deep. And our long lives make for long memories.”

Sloane nodded. “Okay…so you know where she is?”

“Yes. But it’s not a place I want, or possibly _can_ go. She knew that but I’ve been trying to think how to get to her.” She smiled and walked to her again, leaning in. “You don’t have the same weakness I do though. You could do what I’ve been wanting to do. And it would benefit you as well because one of those ingredients I’m fairly sure would let me make a cure for your friend. A real one, the one I wanted to make but couldn’t.”

“You think?” she asked dubiously.

“Yes. It’s a very rare species of rose called, coincidentally, ‘The Melting Heart’. It actually used to grow in the Caribbean, the only known species to do so, but was wiped out many, many years ago. I was able to save a few samples to keep it going at that time despite it being awful to be there with that heat and humidity. And I know for a fact it is used by the Cracher Mortal in their own cures, it’s a small bit of a recipe I found. But I couldn’t recreate it without it…I doubt she would let it die, so if you can get it and bring it back, I think we’ll have a much better chance.”

Sloane tried not to look interested. “…I feel what you want to do isn’t just say hi and ask for your stuff back,” she said slowly.

Gwyn smiled and this smile really made Sloane’s skin crawl. “No no no…I need you to get my stuff back, one way or another, and preferably ending with putting that lovely knife at your side through Lucretia’s chest.”

Gallin gasped and Gwyn glanced at her, having forgotten she was there apparently. “Gwyn…I…but she’s…”

“Oh don’t look so shocked,” she sighed. “As I said, no one crosses me. Getting this done would bring me a lot of relief.” She looked back at Sloane with a smile. “You find her, make her tell you where my samples are, _kill her_ , and bring them back to me. I’ll let you keep a rose or two and give you my notes for your friend.”

Sloane stared at her for a long moment before her gaze hardened. “You know, I could just kill you and take your notes.”

“Sloane!” Gallin nearly yelled.

Gwyn didn’t look fazed. “You could try, but then I might kill you. And then, even if you did win, you don’t know where I keep my notes do you? Do you think I’m foolish enough to keep them out in the open? And you want to search this whole house? Risk maybe a failsafe I might have if say I don’t check in regularly somewhere? Thank you for the idea, Cynthia” she laughed. Sloane narrowed her eyes and Gallin winced.  “If you want them, we make an agreement. Otherwise, you’re on your own to flounder around and figure it out while your friend remains a vegetable.”

Sloane looked ready to kill her right then, her hand tightening, before she breathed out in defeat. “Where?”

“Sloane-” Gallin started. She turned a glare to her and Gallin flinched back.

Gwyn smiled. “Phoenix, Arizona. I don’t melt, but the heat doesn’t agree with me, which she knows. I’ve been considering my options, so maybe this is fate.”

“I don’t put much stock into that. Get me the information, I’ll consider it.”

“You can’t be serious!” Gallin cried, getting up and going between them. “Sloane, this-this isn’t a hunt! It’s an assassination!

Sloane glanced at her and then back to Gwyn. “Grimms have done those as well. Not much difference.”

She gaped before shaking her head. “You don’t even know if she’s wesen! And I thought you changed!”

“Also doesn’t matter,” she said, squaring her shoulders.

“What?! No, it does, you’re—”

“I am a Grimm who has spent the last 20 years of her life training and hunting,” Sloane snapped. “You? You’re a librarian. You’re not a Grimm. What do you know about actual hunting? Traveling, putting yourself in danger, actually having to make life and death decisions? Nothing. So don’t preach to me.” She stared in shock and hurt. Sloane turned her gaze back to Gwyn expectantly. “So? Details?”

Gallin shook her head slowly before quickly heading for the door. “I-I’m not going to be a part of this. I’m not coming back, no to-to this craziness!”

Gwyn watched her throw the door open and slam it shut, and that Sloane didn’t even flinch. She smiled coldly again. “Well…Let me tell you what I have in mind.”

\------------------------------

Hank arrived at the spice shop later in the afternoon, almost evening, after clocking out at the precinct. He came bearing food. “Hey…I brought this, since I wasn’t sure when Nick might’ve eaten last…”

“Oh God, I didn’t think of that,” Juliette gasped. “He hasn’t eaten since early this morning!”

“It’s okay,” Rosalee said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Hank. It didn’t occur to any of us…”

“It mainly occurred to me because I hadn’t eaten either and was starving come five o’ clock,” He pulled out the burger and fries, setting it down for Nick. Nick just looked at it blankly. “…Nick? Buddy? It’s the bacon burger from Barrett’s, you’re fave.” Nick still just stared at it.

“…Nick, eat.”

Nick picked up the burger and obediently began eating. He didn’t appear to get any enjoyment from it though, just automatically chewing and swallowing. Hank frowned more, feeling his heart ache a bit. “Man…why does this keep happening to you?”

“Grimm luck,” Monroe muttered. Juliette frowned at the book she was helping go through the books, and then took a deep breath to keep going.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“We’re researching right now,” Rosalee said. “I’ve found a few small references, but not an actual recipe…Sloane went to see if she could find anything at the trailer.”

“Okay…I think I’ll go help her,” Hank said. “You got a few eyes here already. Maybe some more over there might make things go faster.”

“That would be good,” Monroe nodded. “Might be all hands-on deck right now.”

Hank nodded and turned to head back out. Rosalee sighed, looking at Nick again and then suddenly lunged across the table to smack an orange berry the size of a cherry tomato out of his hand he had taken out of a jar nearby and was about to eat. “Nick! That’s a Jerusalem Berry, don’t eat it! It’s poisonous!”

Nick blinked but then set the jar back down exactly where it had been—too close to the food now Rosalee could see, just behind the burger and the fries—and went to the fries instead. Monroe quickly took the jar and cleared anything else out of Nick’s view, putting it up and away. “It’s like watching a kid…”

“I can’t believe he doesn’t have…anything, any kind of survival instinct or personality,” Juliette said. “How can he just be not there? Just…obedient?”

“I don’t know what combination of ingredients this glitrende hud used, but I’m definitely suspicious…” Rosalee said.

Monroe finished putting things away and Nick-proofing the shop, sighing when he was done. There was a knock at the door and he slumped in frustration but motioned for the girls to watch Nick while he went to answer it. He was shocked when he saw his parents on the door step. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”

“We got a bit worried when you didn’t return our texts,” Alice said.

Monroe patted himself down and pulled out his phone, grimacing at the 5 messages on screen. “Sorry, it’s on silent…we’ve been pretty busy. Um, little bit of an emergency. I’ll turn that back on…”

“Emergency for the Grimm?” Bart asked.

“Nick…” He hesitated but then gestured for them to come in. “When they tried to get a better cure, it…it really messed him up.”

He led them into the back of the shop, where Nick was back to just staring ahead. Alice frowned, looking him over. “He does seem…out of it.”

“To put it lightly,” Juliette said.

“I’ll catch you guys up if you like,” Monroe said.

“Maybe while we grab you all dinner?” Alice said.

“Hank, Nick’s partner at the police station, grabbed him something…but I guess we all need to eat too.”

“I’m not sure I can but I’ll try…” Juliette said.

“There’s a café place nearby that has a good salad for me,” Monroe said. “I’ll right everything down for you.” He went to go do so, everyone setting their orders. Bart was eyeing Nick curiously still. “Dad?”

“He seems…weak like this…like a normal human…”

“He is,” Juliette said, not looking up. “I mean, he’s human. He’s always been. Being a Grimm doesn’t change that, just like being wesen doesn’t make you all monsters…”

Bart blinked, not sure how to take that. “I didn’t mean…It’s like seeing a wax figure of someone you were scared of as a kid. It can’t hurt you, but it’s still creepy…”

“He can hurt you though,” Monroe said. “That’s part of the problem. He can still fight, just on someone else’s order.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Alice said.

“I’ll explain more when you get back,” Monroe said, handing her the list.

“Right, we’ll bring it back here to eat while you stay.”

As they were getting ready, Monroe’s phone buzzed and he pulled it up. “Oh, Hank’s calling. Maybe they found something?” He quickly opened the call. “Hank?”

“Hey, uh…Sloane isn’t at the trailer.”

“What?” Monroe asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s locked up and I don’t think anyone’s been here since that wildesheer thing. I tried her phone, she’s not picking up. I even stopped by her house and I don’t see her here.”

“That…is weird. Um, hold on.” He put the phone to his chest and looked at Rosalee. “Sloane has, uh, gone AWOL? Hank can’t find her. She’s not at the trailer or at home.”

Rosalee looked surprised as well before reaching into her purse for her phone. “Let me try.”

\-----------------

Sloane was sitting at her car at the airport, looking over flight itinerary and prices. She had a small duffel bag full of clothes she always kept packed in her car. She’d considered stopping at home for more weapons, but she didn’t have time to contact a pilot through the Grimm network and going through security was not an option with cross bows swords.

Her finger hesitated over the buy button and she growled at herself, tipping her head back. This had been her routine for almost an hour, hesitating and rethinking her routine. Hank texting her had startled her and she hadn’t answered, too unsure about everything to even try to explain. She then had to go back through to find the tickets again and kept arguing with herself about times, cost, etc. But all that she knew was stalling, and she hated herself for it. She stared at the roof of her car for a few moments, trying to get her mind to slow down and just focus. She knew what she had to do. It wasn’t any different than what she did before.

But she was different than she was before. And all of the tickets she looked at were one way.

She started when her phone rang and seeing Rosalee’s name didn’t bring her the usual good feelings. She hesitated but then hit accept before it went to voicemail. “Hey…”

“Sloane? Where are you? Hank went to the trailer to help and you aren’t there?”

“Yeah, I…went home to look at my stuff first.”

“Well you aren’t there either according to him,” she said bluntly. “And you didn’t pick up for him.”

Sloane grimaced. Usually she was better at lying but she usually had more control over the situation she was in—there were too many factors now. Too many people she didn’t want to lie to even when it would be easier to do so. Too many people that actually _cared_. “I…I went to go see Gwyn. The glitrende hud.”

“What? Why?”

“I wanted to see if I could persuade her to get a sample of what she used on Nick and her recipe. Then you’d have a lead. It was spur of the moment.”

“Alright…but why try to lie about it?”

“I really wish you weren’t so astute sometimes, Rosalee,” Sloane said honestly, groaning deeply and covering her face in mortification. She then sighed and dropped her hand as she gave up trying to be covert. _I’m usually better at this…_ “We made a deal for the research. She’ll give me it if I…take care of someone for her.”

“Sloane, no,” Rosalee said, and she could hear a stool scrape across the floor. Still at the shop, standing now, agitated. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s someone who stole some rare plants from her,” she said quickly. “And she says one of them may be the key to helping Nick.”

“And you believe her?”

“I believe we don’t have a lot of options,” Sloane said evenly. “We can’t keep Nick under wraps for long, we don’t know if that will wear off or get worse, and he’s a danger to himself and others as long as he’s like this. So I’m doing what I am _good_ at and taking out our problem. If I do this, we’re at least a step closer.”

Rosalee frowned and sighed. “…Okay.”

“Okay?” Sloane asked, surprised.

“No, not okay,” she clarified. “But…I get what you mean and you have some good points. I don’t like it but you did. Where are you going?”

“…Phoenix, Arizona. I’m still figuring out flights at the airport.”

“I can help there, if you come back and wait and let us help.”

“Rosalee, you would be an accessory—”

“This isn’t my first time figuring out how to kill something,” she said. “I have a contact that can help. It’ll take him just a while to get ready. But it’d be more direct than a commercial flight.”

“…Okay. But the sooner, the better.”

“I’ll let him know, we can probably leave first thing in the morning. In the meantime, come back here and eat and we’ll talk this out together.”

 _Together…_ Why did that make her happy and sad at the same time?

“I…let’s meet in the morning,” she sighed. “I might need some sleep if I’m not going to just straight up kill someone…”

“Okay, that’s fine too,” she said. “Just don’t go getting on any planes till then. Promise me.”

“…I promise.”

\---------------------

Juliette took Nick home as there wasn’t really a great place for him to sleep at the shop. Getting him there wasn’t hard with how obedient he was, but it irked her at the same time how quiet he was. Not even a thoughtful kind of quiet, just an eerie sort a statue has—a statue that breaths and blinks. He’d been like that as the rest of them ate, and it kind of unnerved everyone in the room.

Once home, she had him follow her upstairs to their bedroom. “Okay…you get changed for bed,” she said, pulling out some pajamas for him. She was talking more to herself to keep calm. “In the morning we’re all meeting back up to get a game plan going to get you back to normal…”

Nick didn’t say anything, just continuing to change robotically and then stand in front of her. “…Go to bed and lay down—under the covers!” She added as he moved to just lie on top. He stepped back and slid in under the covers. He lay on his back, blinking up at the ceiling. “…Close your eyes and go to sleep.” He closed his eyes and though she didn’t think he was asleep yet, she couldn’t deny he was eerie in how obedient he was and how still. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of his chest she’d think he was back in his zombie state again. While part of her was tempted to sleep in the guest room, she sighed and walked over, climbing into bed on the other side. Looking over at him, she kissed his temple. He didn’t even flinch. “Why does this keep happening to us…?”

\-------------------------------

Sloane managed to sleep since she’d slept through worse feelings than anxiety, but was actually the first at the shop. Rosalee and Monroe arrived soon after, opening it up and going in to make coffee. They looked much more tired and Sloane was trying not to let her impatience show. The coffee was about done when Hank, Juliette and the still catatonic Nick arrived.

“Hey…how did he do last night?” Monroe asked.

“He slept like…I don’t want to say the dead, but I told him to go to sleep and he did,” Juliette said. “And he didn’t move all night. Honestly it’s like before but also worse because it was all night. I had to check he was breathing more than once.”

Rosalee sighed and looked at Sloane. “So, care to explain this whole thing about Phoenix, Arizona?”

Sloane sighed and rested her arms on the table. “The glitrende hut said there was a rose that this person took from her that she thinks would help cure Nick. Some rare breed called Melting Heart.”

“Melting heart?” Rosalee asked, straightening. “I’ve heard of that, and it is super, super rare…but it used to be used in a lot of old folk remedies in south America and the coastal islands…”

“Maybe it was in that potion my mom said that Cracher Mortal made?” Monroe guessed. “She mentioned flower petals.”

“Possible…But I have only ever heard of it, we’ve never had any in the shop. It’s thought to be all but extinct.”

“Well, she says this Lucretia Solsgard person took it.” Sloane picked up a file folder she had and held it out. “She was her apprentice and lover and they had a messy break up to say the least. Arson was involved which is only mildly worse than my worst break up I guess…”

“Not mine,” Hank said. They glanced at him and shrugged. “My last divorce got real ugly…”

“Back to this,” Sloane said, pointing at a map of Arizona Gwyn had given her. “She’s located here. Gwyn’s convinced she wouldn’t destroy these plants and must be keeping them alive, and in Arizona that means she must have a pretty nice green house. So she tracked her down that way once figuring out the state and somehow confirmed it. I didn’t want to ask a lot of questions about that part…But she said if I go there and kill Lucretia and get back her stuff, she’ll let us have her notes.”

“Sloane, you can’t be thinking about really going there and killing someone?” Hank asked, frowning.

“I’m not sure we have a choice right now…She wants proof when it’s done.” She held up her hand and wiggled her little finger. “Her left pinkie finger. Not sure I can get that without killing her…”

“I want to help Nick too,” Monroe said. “But we don’t have a guarantee that woman is telling the truth! Or that this woman deserves to just be killed. Further, what if we need some of those samples? If we can’t take them, she might have another request for you. And Nick…Nick is not going to like us killing someone for him—”

“I know that!” Sloane snapped, slamming her hand on the table. “Don’t you think I realize all of that? But look at him!” she gestured to Nick, sitting quietly at the table. “It’s been 24 hours and he’s not better or worse. That could mean this is permanent—unless we figure out how to reverse it.” She slumped a bit, trying to calm down. “We can’t keep his condition secret for long so time is kind of essential. Gallin didn’t find anything with the other librarians, although I’m not sure she asked at the moment. But this is the only lead we have.” She looked back at them. “I know Nick is not going to like this and I will take all the blame for it. And yeah, I don’t know if she’s even telling the truth. But I’d rather get that damn flower and give it a shot than just let him stay like this. And I already have blood on my hands so my doing it makes sense.”

“Sloane,” Rosalee said, frowning, “You’ve been so much better that here though. You’ve worked with us to figure out other ways and get through tough situations without just killing everything…”

She nodded, understanding and agreeing but at the same time it brought up feelings she was still trying to avoid thinking about how that _would_ be what she would’ve done a year ago. “I’m just saying, I can deal with the aftermath of this,” she said, not quite looking at her. “It’s what I was trained for. Let me at least use it to help Nick and not get you guys pulled into it…”

They all looked at one another and then seemed to all come to the same conclusion and nod.

“Okay, that’s the plan for now…My friend will be at the airport soon. He flies small aircraft and he should have a plane that will get us to Phoenix ready.

“Us? I just said—”

“I want to help too,” she said firmly. “Plus, he’s wesen and not big on transporting a Grimm, I’m there to keep him calm. _And_ do you don’t know what a melting heart looks like.”

“I know you’re talking about a plant, but that sounded real creepy,” Hank said.

“It’s a creepy flower,” Rosalee said. “And poisonous. Like foxglove it has a lot of digoxin in it, good for heart failure—It speeds up the rhythm of the heart. But the Melting heart has about five times the dose of foxglove—meaning like foxglove it has to be handled carefully.”

“More carefully if it’s five times as strong,” Monroe grimaced. “You sure you don’t want more company?”

“The two of us can handle it I think,” Rosalee said with a smile. “I think you staying here to help watch Nick would be best right now.”

Monroe frowned but sighed. “Alright…but be careful.”

“I will,” she said, kissing him gently.

\------------------

Sloane looked at the plane on the runway with a leery expression. It was a six seater she could tell—sleek bodied with two propellers and engines, a tail that angled up with two stabilizers on either side, colored in white with red and black details around the windows. It didn’t look like it was falling apart, but it looked like it had seen better days and could use a good wash. It had a couple of dents as well and she wondered if it had been hit by a flock of large birds recently. More than that what irked her was the pinup girl on the side: a rather questionably drawn blonde wearing skimpy camo and a dear stalker hat, holding a gun rather suggestively in a way that would likely blow her head off if the trigger went off. That looked new, so she had to guess the current owner had it done or did it since she wasn’t sure who would pay money for that.

“Rosalee…?” she asked uncertainly.

“I know, I know…but I promise, he can help us out. His taste is questionable but he can fly this really well…From what I’ve heard.”

“From what you’ve _heard?_ How do you know a guy with a plane anyway?”

“He…works with the resistance, those fighting against the royals,” she admitted. “A friend of mine is deep in the resistance and he forwarded a few contacts. I’ve helped a few of them with some medicinal issues from time to time and he came to me for some, um…personal issues. So he owes me still.”

Sloane pulled a face but sighed and followed her.

“Hey, Rosalee!” A rather animated, lanky man wearing an AC/DC shirt and old bomber jacket and very stained jeans popped out of the plane and practically jumped down the steps. He had long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, a little peach fuzz across his jaw like he didn’t shave this morning.  “Good to see you!”

“You too, Clint. Sloane, this is Clinton Herschel. Clint, this is Sloane Larson.”

Clint looked at Sloane curiously and then suddenly woged. From his head, pronged horns sprouted, with. They weren’t quite as big as a real reindeer’s, but they curved from their roots at his scalp forward over his head, and back gracefully with small prongs, all covered in a velvety layer of fine fur. His face went from human to a more snout like face, and wide eye a little further on his face now. Sloane tried not to tense at the sudden change but then looked him over. “Fløyelshorn?”

He woged back and looked at her in surprise. “You really are a Grimm…” He looked at Rosalee, now the uncertain one.

“She won’t hurt you,” she promised.

He didn’t look convinced. “I’m doing this for you really. You have an emergency in Phoenix?”

Sloane nodded but let Rosalee do the talking. “Yeah. It should only take a day.”

“I’m fine with that; I don’t have much else going on right now. Just got the flight plan approved so, uh…” He gestured. “Ladies first.”

Sloane was still hesitant—mainly because Rosalee was already climbing up. It was scary to think about her coming with her…But hiding fear was something she was good at.

Buckling up, Clint got the plane going fairly quickly and up in the air. Sloane tried not to tense at being jostled as took off, and made their ascent, relaxing just slightly when things evened out at their cruising speed. “The wind is working with us, so it should be about 4 and a half to 5 hours to get to Phoenix!” he shouted back from the cockpit. “It’s going to put us just at this baby’s limit on a tank of gas!”

“As long as you remembered to fill it up!” Rosalee shouted back.

“That was one time and I told you that story to impress you!”

Sloane tried very hard not to think about jumping.

\--------------------

Hank stopped by around one after picking up lunch for everyone again with them owing him later. “Hey. How’s he doing?” he asked, setting the bags of burgers down on the table in the side room.

“No change,” Juliette sighed. “I had him lay down because the way he just… stares out was creeping me out a little.

“Yeah…not used to him being so quiet either. I’m starting to miss his snark…Bright side, we got our murderer from the case yesterday,” he sighed. “Wasn’t the brother in law like I thought—it actually was one of the guy’s clients. Creek dropped him as a client when he found out he was moving dirty money and killed him because he was worried he’d tell the police what he was doing. He grabbed the guys’ laptop to try and erase the info but ends Creek uses cloud tech and everything was backed up. His sister figured out his password for us…It was their dad’s birthday.”

“Well that’s good at least—she helped bring him in for her brother…” Juliette said.

“Yeah. But there’s always a new case…I need my partners back. Both of them.”

Juliette nodded softly, looking at Nick with a quiet sort of anxiety. “…Do you ever wish…I don’t know, that you didn’t get pulled into this?”

Hank blinked at her then sighed. He knew what she meant without asking. “Sometimes, yeah…but hey, I’m here. No use in asking not to be now. Even if I just try to ignore it, I know this world exists now. I’d rather be prepared than let it catch me off guard again.”

She nodded softly. “I guess that’s one way to look at it…I just wish it would give Nick a break, jut for a while…”

“Yeah…he’s part of this world too now, so I don’t think that’s going to happen…Just gotta do our best to have his back and Sloane’s.”

She nodded a bit more determinedly, standing straighter.

“Hey, Hank!” Monroe came in. “Just got off the phone with Rosalee, they’ve landed in Phoenix. They’re going to find this lady and she’ll update us after…”

“Do you really think Sloane will killer her?” Juliette asked, worried. “I mean, I know she burned down a green house and stole some stuff, but that doesn’t really equate to capital punishment for me…”

“I don’t know,” Hank said honestly. “I think she’s trying not to be that kinda Grimm anymore…but I also think she’ll do what she thinks she needs to in order to save Nick…”

“Yeah…I will say, I don’t want Sloane hunting me down,” Monroe said honestly.

\---------------------

Sloane had rented a car with cash when they miraculously arrived unscathed to the airport in Phoenix. She had the address that Gwyn gave her and it was about a half hour before they arrived at a quaint little house with a zeroscaped with decorative designs in the rocks out front. It was one story, white with a black roof and looked perfectly mundane like the other houses around them.

“…What are you going to do?” Rosalee asked.

Sloane took a deep breath and got out of the car. “Stay here, act normal. I’ll flash my badge, tell her I have some questions, and get inside. Then I’ll do what I have to do and you don’t have to be involved.”

“Sloane—” she started.

“I’ve done it before, even before being made a detective,” she said. “We don’t know what she is, if she’s dangerous or what she’s capable of. I’ll do what I have to, but that doesn’t mean you should have to get blood on your hands too,” Sloane said seriously, not looking at her.

Rosalee hesitated but then went around anyway. “Sloane…what are you going to do after this?”

“…whatever keeps you and the others safe.”

“I don’t know if I like what that implies,” she said seriously

“This might be stepping back into old habits, Rosalee…Not sure I can get back.” She looked over. “I mean, you really want me around if I do this? Would Nick? He didn’t take killing a man when he couldn’t control himself. I know what’ I’m doing. I’m willing to do it, I just…” _Will it undo everything else I want to keep? Will I have to leave?_

Rosalee put a hand on hers. “Sloane, we all know your past. I accepted it a while ago because, well…you worked hard to change. The fact you’re worried shows that. And Nick won’t be happy but he needs to feel anything to be upset with you.”

Sloane sighed but nodded a bit and tried to smile, but then looked down. “I also gotta make sure this stays quiet so you don’t get wrapped up in a murder plot…”

“I would appreciate that,” Rosalee said, a little strained. “But maybe murder isn’t the answer?”

“I don’t think Gwyn would go for that. If that glitrende hud turns on me, I’d probably have to run for it anyway to avoid her hurting you all,” she said seriously. “Or kill her, but she’s not a push over I can tell…”

Rosalee frowned more, not liking the idea of Sloane having to leave. “You know, there is always an option B?”

“Plastic surgery?”

Rosalee snorted and shook her head and Sloane smiled a bit more that she broke the tension a little bit. “No. Talk to this woman. Maybe she can help.”

Sloane wasn’t so sure but gave Rosalee’s hand a squeeze before turning to get out of the car. She headed up to the door before Rosalee could inquire further.

Knocking on the door, she breathed out and readied herself for a fight. She tried not to drop her guard when the door opened and an elderly woman with short white hair and glasses stared back at her curiously.  “Yes?”

“…Lucretia Solsgard?” she asked. It occurred to her that Gwyn had said this was forty years ago and that she didn’t age as ‘gracefully’ as the wesen did.

“…No, my name is Lucy Sanderson…” she said, looking suspicious now.

Sloane eyed her, reaching for her badge in her jacket pocket. But she just felt like her heart wasn’t there. All the years of deception, stealth, killing…it felt far away and she was suddenly _worried_ to look back. To go back. Would going back mean letting go of now? Would it mean Rosalee, Nick, all of them looking at her like a time-bomb again? She didn’t want to admit that was what she was worried about but she _liked_ her life in Portland…would she have to leave it?

Sighing, she dropped her hand, letting the tension drain from her. “Screw it, option B it is,” she muttered. She had blood on her hands, but she wasn’t getting fresh blood on them for a dammed glitrende hud. “Look, I don’t care what you call yourself. I’m a Grimm and Gwyneth Zima asked me to find you.” Her eyes widened and she moved to close the door but Sloane slammed her hand against it. “Don’t,” she warned. “I honestly don’t want to hurt you for this. But I have a friend that needs help and that glitrende hud said you took something from her that could do it and she’d give it to me if I got it back. And told me what she wanted in return.”

“…I can guess,” she said slowly. “Why tell me?”

“Because I don’t like being used,” she said honestly. “And I don’t want to be that kind of Grimm anymore. But I’m a professional at this so I can if it’s the only option to save him…but is it?”

She looked her over a moment before sighing and stepping back. “Come in…is that another friend by that car?”

“Yeah…”

“Her too then,” she sighed, turning to head inside.

Sloane hesitated but looked back and gestured for Rosalee to come over. She jogged up, looking confused. “What happened to going in alone?”

“…I remembered I wasn’t alone,” she said softly. Rosalee smiled and followed her inside.

The inside was homey, a stark contrast to the modern mansion Gwyn had. It was earth tones, and wood, and flowers. There were pictures all over of a full life—traveling a lot, a husband, children, and grandchildren, nothing that spoke of a life on the run so much as just _living_ it. “So, Gwyn did something to someone you know?” Lucretia asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Rosalee said, also looking around. “Our friend, Nick, is a Grimm…um, you know what that is?”

She looked up at her and smiled. “I do. My mother was a Mellifer and my father Keirsheite. I didn’t inherit the wesen gene however.”

“You’re a keirsheite-getranger?”

“Yes, though where I grew up we usually called it having “unseen traits” or “Unseeners” for short. No transformations like my mother, though I did inherit her love for knowledge. And flowers.” She walked over to the kitchen. “And sugar. I have some lemonade if you girls are interested.”

“Um, thank you, that’d be great.”

“You don’t seem that concerned I told you Gwyn sent me to kill you,” Sloane said, watching her warily.

“I always knew she’d try it someday,” she sighed, taking out a jug and then a couple of glasses covered in painted daisies. “She always was _spiteful_. That she’d find a Grimm to do it is a surprise, but I didn’t grow up naturally fearing them like a full wesen. Plus you said you didn’t want to, so I’m rather banking on that.” She poured the glasses and offered them both one before gesturing to her dining table in the other room. “Tell me the whole story, please.”

Sloane glanced at Rosalee, who nodded to her and together they explained. Starting from the attack by the Cracher Mortal, to Nick’s infection, to the side effects, Gallin recommending Gwyn, and the ultimate issue of the treatment itself. It took some time but by the end Lucretia was nodding slowly.

“The Melting Heart…it’s a dangerous flower if you don’t know how to handle to make medicine,” she said sagely.

“My books said as much. I think I can do it though,” Rosalee said.

“I’m supposed to take your pinkie finger back to Gwyn to get her notes though,” Sloane said. “Your left one, she specified. She’d know it was yours?”

“Ah…” she held up her hand and Sloane saw she had an old tattoo on her pinkie of what looked to be initials, _IB_. “Of course…”

“…Can I ask,” Rosalee said slowly. “Why did you burn Gwyn’s greenhouse and run off with some of the flowers?”

Lucretia sighed and sipped her lemonade to wet her tongue. “…I met Gwyn when I wasn’t much younger than you. While my mother and I were quite a bit alike, I was much more interested in botany and science than news like she was and in the end we had a bit of a falling out over what to do with my life. I decided to travel and she let me know a few wesen spots to check out, learn more about that part of my life even if I’m not… _part_ of it. That’s when I started getting interested in herbology and wesen medicine. I decided to keep traveling and try to find out information on as many as I could. I met Gwyn in Canada, trying to find some special roots and mushrooms for a research group. She was looking for them as well and finding someone with a similar interest was…it made me feel more like I wasn’t an outsider in this world. The wesen world.”

Rosalee frowned. “I guess I never considered what it would be like growing up with a wesen parent and not…being one.”

Lucretia just smiled. “It’s alright, I’m sure many don’t. It’s like…I’m a part of that world, but I’m not a citizen of it. Gwyn feigned to understand, saying her slow aging and long life made her feel similarly. She convinced me to return home with her when I showed her I knew how to take care of plants. At the time she lived in Michigan, in an impressive mansion out on its own on the edge of a small town called Hilding. Her green house was…amazing. I loved it. She asked for my help tending to the flowers and I started living there, doing this and that to help and…well…”

“She said you two had a relationship that _blurred the lines_ ,” Sloane said.

“Yes. I’d known I was bisexual for a while, so it didn’t really shock me to have feelings for a woman. And I thought…I thought she truly felt something for me back.” She looked down at her pinky. “I stayed for a couple of years actually. We learned from one another, and I tended the garden so she didn’t have to work so hard not to kill the plants.”

“Sounds nice so far…”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I thought it was…I didn’t realize how isolated she made me though. Pulling me away from friends and family, keeping me just working all the time. But she made me feel special. Until I got suspicious when she would leave to supposedly make some money selling antiques, but I never saw her pack anything. And when she came home she smelled—so strongly I could smell it, just this smell of flowers mixed with potent chemicals and…” She shuddered. “And some of my plants were being very deliberately cut up or had gone missing. I knew something was wrong, so I followed her…”

“Followed her…?” Sloane prompted when she grew quiet.

She breathed deeply. “I found her at a small hospice facility. There she was experimenting with homemade drugs, administering to wesen and humans alike. Very harsh experiments—sometimes involving surgery and very little equipment to do that safely.”

“Oh God,” Rosalee breathed.

“That’s sick…” Sloane said.

“Oh, that’s just the start. I don’t know where she got all of them—some were homeless I think but it was hard to tell. She’d make them sick if they weren’t already, and then try to cure them. And the cures didn’t always work.” She looked at her pinky. “I found out what was going on sneaking questions to “patients”. Most wanted out but were too sick. There was one that trusted Gwyn though... Her name was Ivy Briggs, and she was desperate enough for help to ask Gwyn to try and save her from a wesen illness. It was Bellman’s Sarcoidosis.”

“Oh…” Rosalee said, grimacing. “That is not an easy disease to treat even today…It usually affects bovidae-like wesen.”

“Yes, she was seelengut. A sheep…” she laughed a bit bitterly. “She could hardly breathe. Her blood cells were swelling and filling the veins and membranes in her lungs. But she still tried to smile through it…she was happy to have someone to talk to; she was kept alone in one of the back rooms as her roommate was “gone”. We were just able to talk through her window. She believed Gwyn was trying to help and I wanted to believe that too. But…part of me knew I couldn’t let her know I knew what she was doing. She was keeping it secret for a reason. So I tried to act like I knew nothing. I tended the garden, I tended Gwyn, and I dueled between suspicion and guilt for that suspicion.”

“Sounds rough,” Sloane said.

“Yes. I’d go and check on Ivy when Gwyn was busy. And she didn’t seem to be getting better. Almost like she was getting worse. But we talked about her family, her brothers and their farm and how much she missed it. And then one day…I watched her die.” She blinked rapidly. “I held her hand while she gasped like a fish, woged for a moment…all pretty white wool and her skin just as pale…and died. And I cried under that window as quietly as I could. Then I heard someone coming and let go and hid, but I could see them…Two of Gwyn’s “helpers”, little more than hired goons. They just picked her up like she was nothing. Like she was something to be thrown away. And I heard Gwyn, who I thought I loved, say “Well, that was a waste of resources. Where am I going to find another test subject like her? That virus takes forever to incubate.””

A few tears slipped out recounting the words and Lucretia wiped at them with an angry purse of her lips at the memory. Sloane and Rosalee weren’t sure what to say but Rosalee leaned forward to pat the older woman’s knee. Lucretia smiled softly but shook her head. “She didn’t care at all. And I realized she was using my plants to make these cures but not out of the goodness of her heart but because she was _bored_ and it was something to take up her time. And that I was also just something to take up her time. I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t know what to do, it was driving me insane. I got this tattoo when I finally made a plan. She noted it and I told her it was for an old friend that died. I think she didn’t like me having other connections, but I told her I just wanted to remember her and distracted her enough she relaxed. Then I brewed up a tea to make her sleep, loaded up as many samples of the plants I just couldn’t stand to see destroyed as I could, and then set fire to everything else. A lot of hard work still went up in smoke but she couldn’t use it anymore for her experiments…” She looked at Sloane. “When you said you didn’t want to be used, I knew exactly what you meant. Gwyn will get her hands dirty, but if she can get someone else to do it, she will. And she’ll find ways around what should be her weaknesses.”

Sloane sighed deeply. “…We still have to do something for Nick.” Rosalee nodded but looked as conflicted as Sloane felt.

“…You said that it was involving the Cracher Mortal, correct?” Lucretia asked.

“Yes. The cure I came up with seemed to work on humans and other wesen, but Nick kept having these additional transformations…”

“A Grimm might need a stronger version, the kind the cracher mortal have used for centuries. It does use the Melting Heart rose.” Grunting, she stood. “Follow me.”

Rosalee and Sloane glanced at one another before standing to follow. She led them to the back door and they were shocked to find it led out to a greenhouse that took up Lucretia’s entire backyard. Rows and rows of flowers lined the glass enclosure and it even had separate rooms for those that needed a special environments.

“Oh wow…” Rosalee gasped, looking around with wide eyes. “I’ve only seen some of these in pictures…”

“I know,” Lucretia smiled proudly. “With the help of new friends, I was able to keep the samples alive for many years until I was finally ready to settle down. I chose Phoenix out of paranoia even though I’m not a fan of the heat, but I’d made enough and saved enough to create this.” She gestured at the green house. “Got even easier when I got solar power, let me tell you.”

Rosalee was excitedly looking at some of the plants before pausing. “Oh…that’s the melting heart…”

Sloane looked over to see a solitary bush on its own. It was in a large pot and stood about to her chest, with a full well trimmed globe of leaves about as large as big beach ball. And Sloane understood the name now—the blossoms adorning the leaves and branches were a deep, bloody red and their petals tapered and rolled to look almost like they were melting even though they were healthy. They looked honestly like a melting heart. There were about 5 blossoms on the bush, and several buds on the branches.

“Yes. I admit, it’s one of my favorites even though it’s so dangerous.” She looked at them again. “Considering you don’t want to kill me, I feel like I should help your friend. I know the recipe you need, I found a Cracher Mortal in the Caribbean who taught me.”

“Seriously?” Sloane gaped.

She smiled. “Seriously. I’d still prefer to keep my pinky though.”

“No, yeah, keep it,” Sloane said. “I’ll just tell Gwyn too bad, so sad.”

Rosalee frowned slightly. “Do you think she’ll accept that?”

“She won’t,” Lucretia said. “You’ll be her next target.”

“All things considered, I’m less broken up about fighting her than I am you.”

Lucretia smiled. “Well…if you’re a Grimm, I hope you can handle yourself against her. But more than anything, I hope this helps your friend. Now, I won’t have everything, but I should be able to get you the recipe and what you need that I do have. From the sound of it, Rosalee can do the rest I’m sure,” she smiled, Rosalee smiling back. “Help me gather what we need. I should have a list in my note book…”

\------------------------

Gallin knocked on the door to the modern mansion again, trying not to fidget too much. The doorbell next to her buzzed and Gwyn’s voice came over it. “Cynthia, dear, I’m fairly sure you told me yesterday you weren’t coming back?” she said, sounding amused.

She blushed but frowned. “I want to talk…”

There was a pause before she came to the door, dressed in jeans and blue, flowy shirt. “Well…by all means, come in.” Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her.

“…Did Sloane really agree to…kill someone for you?” she asked slowly, staying near the door.

“She did,” Gwyn said, walking casually back to her living area.

“Gwyn, why?” Gallin asked. “Why won’t you just help when she came to ask? I thought you got into medicinal remedies because you wanted to help people?”

Gwyn actually barked out a laugh. “Help? My dear, no. I mean, occasionally my work might benefit others, but it’s not intended,” she said, slipping into a more outdated way to talk. “I told you before, I like the challenge. The puzzles. If there’s not challenge, what’s the point in doing anything with this long life of mine? Everything gets old and boring eventually.”

“…Everything?” She asked, looking down.

A cool hand went to her face and gently turned her back up. But her gaze wasn’t comforting like the action, it was pitying. “Oh, don’t look like that, dear. But yes, _everything._ ” She let go and walked off. “Revenge is another puzzle. I worried Lucretia had me beat but well, this is an answer as good as any other.”

“Murder isn’t an answer!”

“You’re the daughter of a Grimm, aren’t you? I would think you’d know murder is always a Grimm’s answer,” she said icily.

Gwyn flinched but then glared. “N-not the Grimm I asked you to help or Sloane. They’re friends with Wesen. That’s why I brought them to you—I thought they were like us! I thought you wanted to help! But now-now Nick is catatonic and Sloane blames me and is turning to her Fuchsbau friend to cure him!”

“Jealous?” Gwyn said with a smile. “But is it of her friends or that Grimm stealing your little childhood crush from you?”

“I’m serious, Gwyneth!” she nearly shouted. “This is going too far! Whether I know him or not, he can’t stay like that! He’s unfeeling, unspeaking, following any order he’s given and Sloane is willing to kill for him—”

“What was that?” she said, looking up with more interest.

“She’s out there killing for you, for him—”

“Not that,” Gwyn said, moving closer. “You said he’s “following any order he’s given”. This was after I gave him the second treatment?”

Gallin had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sloane hadn’t wanted anyone but her friends to know about that and perhaps she’d been right from the look in the glitrende hud’s eyes. “Y-yes…?”

“That’s interesting,” she said, her mind already turning. “I had no idea it might result in that…That could be very useful…”

“Useful?” Gallin asked. “It’s awful!”

“Depends on who’s under the influence,” she said. “Can you get him here?”

“What? I—probably not, he’s with his friends. A Blutbad, a Fuchsbau, and probably a couple of cops. Oh, and Sloane. Sloane would probably kill me…”

Gwyn sighed, rolling her eyes. “If she’s still there. She may have already left.”

“She’s not going to just do what you say,” Gallin said.

“…No, likely not, that’s true. After all, she’s not you.”

“What?”

“You’ll take me to them and I’ll deal with them. No blood on your hands, but I get what I want. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?” she said with a smile.

She backed up slightly, swallowing. “Gwyn, I-I can’t do that! Sloane—”

She gasped when the hand came up again to grab her much more roughly by the chin. A painful chill was emanating from Cynthia’s fingers. Gallin shook, more from fear than the cold as she looked at her with a terrifying gaze. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, my little bookworm. I am going to get my things together and you are going to take me to where they are or I’ll freeze the blood in your veins. Because I always get what I want, even if it takes eternity.”

\--------------------------

Sloane and Rosalee helped gather the ingredients once the recipe was found. It was a lot of flowers, and then a few other ingredients that Rosalee was certain she had at the shop.

“These are pretty close to what my book said to use that helped the other victims…just with a few more powerful ones I didn’t have.”

“I think that supports the idea that he just needs a more powerful dose.”

“It definitely does something to us beyond the pale. Nick got the same stuff but his reflexes and physical stats went through the roof,” Sloane said. “It’s like Grimm steroids, complete with roidrage…”

“Well, best to get him off of them now then.” She closed up the old wooden box she used to put the ingredients together for them and handed it to Rosalee. “I wish I could return with you but I’m a bit beyond my adventuring days…”

“Best not to have to meet Gwyn face to face either,” Sloane said. “At least if you have a choice about it…”

“I wish you the best of luck against her,” she said honestly. “It’s almost night time though…Would you two like to stay tonight? I had all the ingredients I was saving for my famous lasagna I was saving for my family’s visit, but I don’t mind breaking them out now.”

Sloane hesitated, wanting to get back to help Nick, but looked at Rosalee. “Think Clint gassed up the plane yet?”

“Probably, but…I’m not sure I want to fly with him at night,” she admitted.

“Is that somehow worse than when he flies during the day?”

“I don’t know, but if he’s tired it might not go well…”

“Fair point,” Sloane said quickly, not wanting to think about that.

“I’ll text him that we want to leave early in the morning instead.”

Lucretia nodded, smiling a bit. “It’s nice to have company, this will be fun. I’ve got a guest room with a couple of twin beds for you.”

Sloane smiled a bit and had to admit, Lucretia reminded her of her Aunt Mim and Aunt Jean. She wondered if they’d get a long…

\------------------------------

Monroe grabbed up his phone like he was saving it from the jaws of death when it dinged with a message. He opened it and smiled in relief.

Rosalee: _We got the ingredients without killing anyone!_

Monroe: _Really? That’s great!_

Rosalee: _Yeah, but it’s so late that we’re going to head back in the morning rather than risk a night flight_

_That okay?_

Monroe: _Little disappointed : < but I want you both to be safe so if you think it’s best_

Rosalee: _We want to get home to help Nick ASAP, but I think this is going to best if we don’t want to get back too tired to do anything._

_Lucretia is pretty awesome though, she’s putting up us for the night and got us a RECIPE for the cure!_

Monroe: _Holy shit! Awesome! Do you need me to pick you guys up in the morning?_

Rosalee: _No, my car is still at the airport, we should be fine. I can get right to work when we get back to the shop ^3^_

Monroe: _After you kiss me you mean. But sounds good, we’ll see you then._

He rushed back over to the side room. “Good news! They got the stuff for a cure and no one died in the process.”

“Oh thank god,” Juliette sighed. “I don’t know how much more of Nick being so…quiet I can take.”

“No kidding,” he sighed. “Bad newsish, they’re coming back tomorrow.”

“Well, I guess I can handle one more night,” she sighed. She looked over at Nick, who was lying back on the chaise in the corner. His eyes were closed, though he didn’t really seem asleep. “I guess on the Brightside, he’s catching up on a lot of rest…I wonder if he dreams or he’s aware of any of this…”

“Good question… I’ll text Hank and let him know.” There was a knock at the door and he frowned. “Can no one read a closed sign nowadays?” He walked over and looked through the window, pausing when he saw who was there. He opened the door and looked at Gallin curiously. “Hey, you’re uh…Cynthia, right?”

She looked surprised he remembered her name but nodded. “Y-yes…Is Sloane here?”

“Uh, no…she had to, um…she went to go get help for Nick somewhere else,” he said, a little awkwardly.

She looked scared suddenly for a moment but then took a deep breath. “And how is Nick?”

“Uh…no change. Did you want to come in?”

“We would love to,” a new voice said. Monroe tensed when a woman in a blue-black suit came in from the side and pushed him back with surprising strength.

“What the-who are you?” He got his footing back and looked at the woman with her long blonde hair pulled up into a wrapped bun.

“Gwyneth Zima,” she said, smiling coldly. “And I’d like to take another look at your friend. Back at my house though.”

Monroe tensed and looked at Gallin, who looked away in shame. He looked back at Gwyn and shook his head slowly. “I don’t think we’re going to okay that…”

Gwyn smiled. “I’m not looking for your okay, I’m just looking for the Grimm.”

Monroe glared. “Back off, lady, or I’ll throw you out that door,” he said, growling in his chest. Gwyn smiled and then raised her hand. Ice gathered there and lengthened it an icicle with a deadly point to it. Monroe snarled and woged, giving a howling roar and moving to rush her. The icicle slashed across his arm but he got her to move back.

“Oh, a Blutbad! I haven’t seen one of you in a while,” she said with a smile. “I froze one like an ice statue once in Russia. I just have to get my fingers with enough pressure I can freeze you through to the bone in a few seconds if I really try.”

“Gwyn, no!” Gallin said. “You promised, no one else dies!”

“Oh honestly,” she sighed. “Fine…” Monroe tried to rush her again, and got in a good swipe across her side, but her fist was encased in ice in a moment and came down hard on his head. He reeled, seeing stars, and then the ice fist came around again and smashed upside his head, sending him sprawling. “Little mongrel!” she swore, looking at her side where he’d clawed her. A normal person might be worried about their liver, but the edges of the wound were already freezing like frostbite setting in and stopping the bleeding. Monroe tried to get up but he yelped when she brought her ice fist down into that sensitive area on his spine, his legs turning to jelly, and then another whack to the head was lights out.

“What’s going on?” Juliette came out from the side room and stopped, taking in the scene. “Monroe? Monroe!” She started towards him but paused and took another look at Gwyn and Gallin, who was looking at her guiltily.

“Are you going to put up a fight too?” Gwyn said, sounding bored. “Or will you hand over the male Grimm.”

“What do you want with Nick?” she said, inching back towards the room she’d come out from nervously.

“I want to know why he’s apparently obedient to suggestion. Something like that could be quite valuable to know.”

“Then no,” she said, getting bolder.

“Please, Juliette,” Gallin said softly. “She’ll hurt you.”

“She’ll hurt Nick too, won’t she?” she said, not taking her eyes off Gwyn.

“Honestly, it’s just a little experimentation,” Gwyn said. “I might even end up curing him eventually.”

Juliette glared and then turned and grabbed her purse off the table, pulling out the small handgun she kept there. But Gwyn was already moving and when she turned to bring the gun up and turn off the safety, Gwyn grabbed her arm around the wrist. Juliette yelled at the contact, the freezing touching already moving through her. Her nerves started going numb and the gun tumbled from her hand before she could get a shot off.

“I could freeze your hand off right now and you might survive, but it would be such a shame for such a pretty little thing…”

Juliette glared and brought her fist around, socking her across the face. Gwyn blinked in surprise then smiled slightly. “Well, you’re no shrinking violet I see.” She let go and suddenly put her hand over Juliette’s head. “But you’re a bit too distracting trying to deal with.” Juliette felt a sudden flash of frigid temperature rush through her and she reeled, stumbling back.

“What did you do?” Gallin said, watching as Juliette ended up holding the table for support and then dropping to her knees. She looked like she couldn’t find her footing under her and the world was spinning.

“A little trick of creating the symptoms of hypothermia. Disorientation, confusion, drowsiness and the like. Temporary though.” She turned, apparently forgetting Juliette as quickly as she’d been interested her, and walked over to where Nick was laying down. “Let’s see…Nick? Open your eyes.”

Nick opened his eyes, still glassy and unfeeling it seemed.

Gwyn smiled. “Very good. Now, I want you to stand up and follow me outside to my car.”

Nick wordlessly rose and waited. Gwyn took a step back and he followed without protest. She smiled and turned heading for the door. “Coming Gallin?”

Gallin hesitated, looking down at the prone Juliette and the unconscious Monroe worriedly.

“Nick…” Juliette slurred, trying to pull herself up.

“We don’t have all day,” Gwyn said impatiently.

Gallin swallowed and followed them both out and to the car.

\--------------------------------

“Okay, you’ve got the box of ingredients and the box of leftover lasagna—don’t mix those up,” Lucretia said. They were on the porch of her home, getting ready to leave early the next morning at the break of dawn. “And I put my info in the box too. If you ever need my help further, let me know. I trust you with my flowers,” she said with a wink.

Rosalee smiled and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Lucretia.”

“No, thank you,” she sighed, hugging her back. “I kept up with all of this but I was scared to share it again after Gwyn…knowing there are people out there that will use it for good makes me so happy I didn’t just burn it all and give up. A talented apothecary like you is going to go far. Now, I can’t say this will cure him outright though. You might still need to figure out what Gwyn used in her own cure, but I wrote down some ideas from what you said. She’s not the only one who kept up on her studies; I just didn’t have her budget!”

Rosalee smiled more and pulled back. “Thank you so much, really. I don’t know how we’ll repay you.”

“Keep in touch! I can’t talk like this with the girls at bunko. It’s always gossip and the latest on the TV. If I have to hear about one more home renovation show and how wainscoting is in again, I might poison them…” she said jokingly. Lucretia then surprised Sloane by hugging her. “And you! You are an interesting one. I know you must’ve killed before now, but you didn’t want to kill me. You’re not like the Grimms I was told about.”

“…Well…it’s not easy…”

“Doing good rarely is,” she said wisely. She pulled back and patted Sloane’s shoulder. “But keep going. I want to see what you do with your life from here.”

Sloane smiled back and nodded before they turned to head out and back to the car. “…I’m glad you didn’t kill her,” Rosalee said.

Sloane took a breath but nodded. “Can’t guarantee it’ll always go like that, but…Nice that it did.” They smiled at one another and drove back to the airport, where Clint had finished gassing up the plane to leave.

When Clint landed the plane—and his landings weren’t smooth but they could walk—Sloane and Rosalee were tired and hungry but feeling hopeful.

“So, you two don’t wanna get some dinner?” Clint asked. “I, uh, know a good place nearby.”

“We need to check in with the others,” Sloane said.

He glanced at her but back to Rosalee. “Sure it can’t wait?”

“Clint, I told you before, I’m taken,” she said, holding up the ring on her finger.

“It’s just dinner,” he said innocently.

“Not tonight,” she said, smiling but much more firmly. “Thank you though, for helping us. Consider us even for the, um…”

“Yeah, no, don’t mention it. For real,” he said, holding up his hands. “The less I remember of that the better.”

“Same here,” she muttered.

They climbed down the plane and Sloane glanced back and then to Rosalee. “What did he have again?”

“It was, um…pinworms,” she said delicately and quietly as they got out of earshot.

“…Are those usually around the…”

“Yep,” she said tightly.

“Ew…”

“Yeah. Even if I wasn’t with Monroe, treating that takes a lot of the charm factor out of a person.” They glanced at one another before laughing and getting to the car. It was dark already, but Rosalee didn’t mind driving back to the shop. When they pulled up, they could see Monroe and Rosalee were already there and headed inside. “We’re back! …Guys?” She walked to the back and both Juliette and Monroe were there, looking down and shame faced. Monroe had bandage over his temple as well, and an ice pack pressed to his head at the back. “Monroe! What happened?” Rosalee said, rushing over to look at him, setting the box down on the table.

“Guys,” Monroe said, taking the ice pack away. “I tried to call you…”

Rosalee and Sloane grabbed their phones. “We had them off for the plane ride,” Sloane said, booting it up. She saw they had tried to call more than once. “What’s going on? Where’s Nick?”

Monroe looked down, guilty and shamed looking, as did Juliette. “That… Glitrende Hud came for him last night,” he said. “She knocked me out with block of ice around her fist—which, good to know they can do that I guess—and then did something funky to Juliette, and ordered Nick to come with them. We were both out till almost morning.”

“What? But how, how did she even know he was here?” Rosalee said, looking him over. He had quite a knot in his head.

“Gallin brought her,” Juliette said bitterly.

Sloane was shocked a moment before a hard look came over her face. “Goddamit…” She turned to head to the door.

“Sloane?” Rosalee asked.

“I know where her house is, I’m going to get Nick back. I’ll get you her notes too, one way or another.”

“We’ll come with you,” Juliette said. She stopped when Sloane held up a hand.

“No. I know you want to help, but in this case I’m going to do better focusing just on her and not worrying about someone else.”

“But Sloane—”

“Juliette, if something happened to you, Nick wouldn’t even want to be brought back to his right mind,” she said seriously. “Not to mention I can see you favoring that arm. How bad did she get you?”

“…Second degree frostbite,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ll have any scarring or nerve damage but it’s not pretty…”

“It hurts even making a fist, right?” Sloane asked, looking concerned. “You can’t hold a weapon or fight like that and with one arm it’s even more of a problem. Stay here, make a cure for Nick. I’ll text you Gwyn’s address once I’m there and you can bring it if I haven’t gotten him back yet.”

“Let me come then,” Monroe said, standing. “I want a rematch with the white witch of Narnia.”

“I…sort of understand that I think, but you sure you don’t have a concussion?” Sloane asked.

He smiled. “That fact that you’re concerned is touching, really, but I’m fine.”

“Monroe,” Rosalee said, sounding more worried as well.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he said more emphatically. “I’m just pissed.”

“…Okay,” Sloane sighed. She reached into her pocket. “Rosalee, catch.” She tossed her a protein bar and smiled. “I don’t think we’re getting lunch so eat that and get to work on the cure.”

Rosalee smiled a bit and nodded. “Be careful.”

“As we can be,” Monroe promised, giving her a kiss before following Sloane out to her car. “So…what’s the plan?”

“You get Nick out, I deal with the Glitrende Hud.”

“You sure? I’ll be ready this time,” he said.

She smiled a little as she pulled on to the highway. “I’m not doubting your skills Monroe, but I think you’ll be able to get Nick to safety fast and I’ll be better at pulling her attention away from you.”

He nodded slowly. “…You planning on killing her?”

“At this point, yes,” she admitted. “Problem with that?”

“No, yeah, do what you gotta do,” Monroe said. “We at least _try_ the peaceful route—when that doesn’t work, well…whatever you think, we all have a little blood on our hands.”

Sloane breathed out a little but nodded slowly. “Yeah…I just hope she hasn’t hurt Nick…”

\--------------------

Gallin had opted not to join Gwyn in her lab when they had arrived, but she didn’t leave the house either. She had sat for hours on the couch, trying to wrap her head around everything. She had honestly thought Gwyn wanted to _help_ people. How could she be so stupid?  How could she not realize she was only interested in her own goals and desires?

Admittedly, the sex was a bit distracting, but that didn’t make it better in her eyes that she fell for a wesen that was literally cold as ice.

And Sloane…Sloane worked with wesen. Good wesen that tried to protect their Grimm friend. Good wesen that were trying to help him because they wanted him back. Sloane cared about them, obviously, and part of her resented that. But a bigger part of her knew that Sloane was never going to look at her that way now.

At some point she fell asleep on the couch, exhausted despite the anxiety rolling around inside her. When she woke in the morning she nearly rolled off and caught herself with a jolt. Sitting up, she rubbed over her face and groaned. She still felt shaky with anxiety, but now she was at least a little rested. Standing, she made her way up to the bedroom, only to find it empty. Confused, she padded back down stairs and to the hall. The light in the lab was still on. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up but swallowed and opened it.

Nick was thankfully in one piece, and Gallin breathed out in relief that her vision of Dr. Frankenstein with a pile of body parts wasn’t real. He was without a shirt on the table, eyes closed and she noted what looked like headphones in his ears as well. But he was also looking paler than he did before. Not like how he was when he transformed before, more like he’d been through the proverbial wringer and washed the color out of him.

Then she saw the two bags of blood on the desk. What was more concerning though was what she knew to be a spinal tap syringe—and it looked used. Gwyn was looking at something on the table, her back to her as she worked at something.

“Gwyn, what did you do to him?” she asked before she really thought about it.

The glitrende hud looked up and smiled a bit. She looked as though she hadn’t slept at all and likely she hadn’t if she’d just kept working through the night. “Ah, you’re up. Come, look at this! It’s rather fascinating.” Gallin frowned but walked over. She could see a few boxes of things on the table now—various ingredients and bits and pieces. And in the center a new pill, this one pearl white. “When you brought me those samples, I found traces of a substance in his blood. But it wasn’t being treated like an infection, his white blood cell count was normal. When exposed to adrenaline, the substance would attach to the cells—and turn them black! This effect is part of his transformations, but I had the feeling there was more, that it must be affecting his brain.”

“Gwyn, you didn’t do something to his brain did you?” she asked quickly.

“No, no…I’m not that desperate yet,” she said. “I took a spinal tap. I have a little left, watch.” She picked up a test tube of clear fluid. “This is perfectly normal looking, no sign of infection. But look at the slide there, in my microscope. I mixed this spinal fluid with the activated blood.”

Gallin hesitated but her curiosity got the better of her and she looked. She could see the cells were still moving about and they were interacting with each other in a way she hadn’t seen before, attaching to each other and bulking up. “What…?”

“This blood reacts with the brain to create the effects you see when he “transforms”—increased strength, heightened senses, but a decrease in in his cognitive abilities and eventually his heart rate moving to a near undetectable state. It makes so much more sense now! The obedience effect is because it turned off centers in the brain and it’s an effect I’ve heard of in only the most powerful spells by hexenbeasts. And I created it here!”

“That’s…impressive…do you know how to reverse it?”

“I’m still studying how it happened. I wanted to discern the cause of that strength first, and I managed to isolate that effect into this pill I believe.”

“I…you made a pill that would do all that? The heightened strength and reflexes?”

“Yes, or at least it should. I need to figure out how best to test it and determine if this effect only occurs in Grimms…I’ll need test subject for that and the other.”

“The other?” she asked, growing more and more worried.

“The obedience portion. Granted, I only have notes on that one at the moment, but I should be able to whip up an idea for it. Trying to keep him from fallowing any order is a concern. For now I put some wireless headphones in, he can react to a message I send through a microphone. But together these could be very profitable in the right markets…”

“I thought you didn’t need money,” Gallin said, her mind racing.

“I want to study this sort of thing more. For that, I’ll need money. I can buy supplies, more equipment, and test subjects. I once had a small hospital to myself before my samples were burned and there wasn’t anything I could do with it. And get to see this all in action.”

“I…Gwyn, no. Y-you can’t do that.”

Gwyn turned to her, the smile fading slowly. “Pardon me?”

“This could be used for _very bad things_ ,” Gallin said. “You can’t just make this and let anyone with money use it!”

Gwyn smiled again and reached up to cup her cheek. “Cynthia, don’t you see? This is an amazing opportunity. For you as well. You could help me—”

“Stop that!” Gallin snapped, smacking her hand away. “Stop using my feelings like that! You don’t care about me! You just used me for the information I had on-on wesen and Grimms and getting things you wanted. But I’m not going to help you use people like lab rats! You need to let him go and just-just stop!”

Gwyn stared for a few moments in shock before her gaze grew icy. “You chose a poor time to grow a spine, sweetheart.”

Gallin gasped when her hand came up around her throat, icy and hard and _painful_. She gripped her wrist, trying to pull it away. She wouldn’t budge her grip tightened, sending painful cold through her neck. But Gwyn forgot: she was the daughter of Grimms, even if she wasn’t one.

Reaching for the table, she grabbed the spinal tap and brought up, stabbing through Gwyn’s arm. She screamed and let goon reflex. Gallin stumbled back, taking a gulp of air, before grabbing the pill on the table and running for the door.

“Cynthia!” She roared as she pulled the needle from her arm. She grabbed the microphone remote and barked into it. “Nick! Get up and go get Cynthia!” Nick opened his eyes and stood, stumbling a moment before he righted himself and headed for the door.

Gallin threw open the front door and ran out into the night. She reached for her side where her purse should be as she rushed to her car and then cursed when she realized it was still inside near the couch. She turned to try and judge if she could run back, but Nick was in the doorway already, casting a shadow over the drive way. Gasping, she turned and instead kept running up the road, clutching the pill hard in her hand. She thought about whether to go to the woods or not but her shoes were not the best for running period let alone over rocks and turf. So she kept going up the road. When headlights were coming towards her she waved her arms. When she realized it was Sloane’s car, she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or more scared.

“Gallin?” Sloane asked, rolling down the window and sticking her head out. She didn’t look happy to see her but she didn’t look ready to kill her.

“Gwyn has gone insane!”

“I’d argue she’s been insane,” Monroe said.

“She tried to kill me when I told her to stop experimenting on Nick! And now she’s sent him after me!”

As if on que, Nick was there, standing in the headlights, striking an imposing figure.

“I got this,” Monroe said, getting out. “Nick! I order you to stop trying to kill Gallin!”

Nick eyed him but then started forward.

“She put Bluetooth earbuds in his ears, he can’t hear anything unless you talk into the remote she has,” Gallin panted.

“Freakin great…” Monroe said, tensing for a fight.

“Gallin, get in the car and stay in it, I’ll go deal with Gwyn.”

Gallin looked at her a moment but nodded and quickly climbed into the back seat. Sloane got out and locked the door. “Monroe, can you keep Nick occupied?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, woging and growling to get his attention. Nick just advanced like a machine, going for the car. Monroe rushed and tackled him like a linebacker, pushing him back into the woods.

Sloane meanwhile ran for the house. The door was still open and she rushed in, and then rushed for the lab. Gwyn looked up, dabbing something over a wound on her arm. “You…” she said coolly.

“You really shouldn’t have made this worse than it is,” Sloane said darkly.

Gwyn glared. “I’m discovering things others, even hexenbeasts, only dream of.”

“Is that what this is? You’re a wanna be hexenbeast? Or a wanna be mad scientist?” she reached up and unsheathed her knife.

“Neither,” she said breezily. “I just enjoy experimenting on things.”

She glared more. “Nick is not a _thing_ ,” she snarled, rushing her. Gwyn was woged in an instant and she dodged back, bringing up a hand with claws made of ice. Sloane ducked under the swipe, bringing her foot up to kick her in the chest. It sent her back against another table and Sloane moved in to stab her. She encased her fist in ice and moved to strike her in the head, but Sloane jumped back and felt an icy breeze pass by her face with how narrowly it missed her, smashing against the table and causing a dent in the metal. She was grateful Monroe mentioned that move.

“I guess I should have known a Grimm would put up a good fight,” Gwyn said.

“You got the drop on my friends,” Sloane replied. “They can take care of themselves.”

Meanwhile, Monroe was trying hard not to kill Nick, and just as hard not to be killed by him. Nick was robotic in his movements, but he was still showing that innate Grimm fighting ability and strength. Monroe tried more than once to reach up and get the earbuds out of his ears, or break the connector at the back that was wrapping around his head, but he was moving away from him and trying to get around with the single-minded focus on the car on the road beyond the trees.

“Dammit, Nick, wake up!” he yelled in his ear as he grabbed him from behind. “I really don’t want to hurt you! You’re my best friend!”

Nick seemed to freeze just a second before shaking his head and then shoving him off. He took a swing at Monroe and Monroe caught his arm, woging again with his eyes red, and his teeth bared.

Sloane felt an icicle slash in her shoulder as Gwyn tried to stab. The cut stung and was oozing blood but she’d had worse. She swung the knife up to give her a slice of her own across her clavicle when she moved back. Her blood was red, but it turned black almost instantly in the air and the wound itself began to freeze to stop the bleeding. Sloane brought her free hand around to grab icicles cresting her head, bringing her forehead down to try and smash it to the table. She shouted but the ice on her forehead took most of the damage, cracking and then trying to repair the damage immediately with more ice. Gwyn glared and in showing that bit of emotion, her face cracked like ice as well, the cracks looking deep and painful.

“I was lamenting lacking another Grimm to work on—but I’m going to enjoy experimenting on you!”

“You’ll have to beat me first,” Sloane said darkly. She rushed her and they danced around the tables a bit, Sloane flipping over one to try and stab at her. The she felt her foot slip—she’d iced the floor when she was distracted!—and Gwyn body checked her hard enough to send her down. Sloane had to let go of her knife and bring both her hands up to stop an icicle coming for her face. Gwyn was strong and it was coming dame close to her eye before she managed to force her strike to the side, just nicking her face, and elbow her in the temple to get her off. She scrambled back on the ice, accidently knocking her knife away to where it slid to rest just in front of the table with the remote. Sloane marked the places in her mind but kept her attention on Gwyn as she rose, healing the ice at her temple.

Gwyn smirked. “Well, beating you doesn’t seem that hard. I’ve iced over stronger wesen than you. And now you’re unarmed.”

“You’ve never fought someone like me if you think that will stop me,” she said.

Outside, Nick and Monroe were wrestling. Nick would hit Monroe and get up to move to the car, and Monroe would jump up and pull him to the ground again. Gallin was bunched up against the other side of the car, shaking and trying not to scream every time Nick came close enough to try and open the door.

Inside temperature in the room went down several degrees very quickly, to the point Sloane’s breath was coming out in white puffs. She then saw what must be the microphone for the ear buds she put on Nick. Weighing her options, she grabbed a heavy piece of equipment and threw it at the knife, knocking it out of the ice and onto the ground and making Gwyn back up. Then she moved for the microphone, her hand outstretched. Gwyn was quick as well and grabbed her hand, encasing both their hands in ice. Sloane gritted her teeth at the flash of pain, the burning, sharp pinpricks of freezing cold as it tried to invade her skin and nerves. Gwyn then reared back and head butted her, using that crystalline crown of hers to try and disorient her. But she stood her ground, glaring at her and socking Gwyn across the face. Once, twice—Gwyn cracked and glared each time until she reached up and grabbed her by the head and Sloane suddenly felt the cold invade her senses again. _Hypothermia…_

She didn’t have long she knew, but Gwyn was smiling like she won. The anger Sloane felt in that moment, seeing that smug grin, was enough to clear her mind for a moment and she reached out over the nearby table and grabbed a beaker of greenish fluid. Not caring what was in it, she broke it over the glitrende hud’s face. A piercing shriek erupted from her and her hand passed through the ice like water, leaving Sloane’s encased, as she cradled her face. Sloane then used her foot to slide her knife back over, flipping it up with a flick of her foot and catching it by the handle. Grasping it with her palm up, she brought the knife into the wesen’s side, just below her ribs. Gwyn jolted, a soft gasp escaping her. Her hands pulled away from her face, showing the deep cracks and blotchy, chemical burned bits melting and blackening and freezing all at once. She tried to stagger back but Sloane didn’t let her. She lurched forward, wrapping the arm with her hand in ice around her, the other digging the knife in harder, not letting her pull it out to close the wound.

She de-woged, staring at Sloane with wide, confused eyes, the burning skin pink and raw but not melting anymore. “What…?”

“I told you, you haven’t fought someone like me before.” She wrenched the knife up through flesh, and then pulled it out, only to quickly stab it through her chest into her heart. The wound was too big for her to try and ice over to stop the bleeding and she couldn’t woge again.

She stared at Sloane in shock. “I can’t die…”

“Everything can die.”

She gave a shuddering breath, just a small bit of frost puffing out, before giving a twisted smile. “Yes…you would know…natural born killer…” Sloane felt her gut twist for some reason and glared, twisting the knife to do it to her back. Gwyn convulsed a moment before her eyes rolled back and she fell backwards, off the knife and onto the floor.

Sloane sighed and then looked at her hand, which was going numb and it was moving up her arm. The remote microphone was still in her fist as well. Taking a breath, she set her knife down and used her other hand to lift the ice one up, and smash it against the metal table. She gritted her teeth at the feeling of the ice breaking over her skin, a few bits scratching her up, but her hand was in one piece and she’d gotten it out quick enough to avoid the worst of the frost bite. She grabbed the remote from her limp, numb fingers and pressed the button. “Nick, whatever you’re doing, stop!”

In the woods, Monroe had Nick in a full Nelson. Nick struggled to get out of his grip, but suddenly he stopped. “…Nick? Nick, I didn’t strangle you did I?” he asked quickly.

“Nick,” Sloane’s voice came over the frequency. “Take the headphones out of your ears.”

Nick reached up and pulled the head phones out. Monroe breathed out and pulled away, knowing Sloane must’ve won. “Okay…good, cool…Nick, stand up.” Nick did so and Monroe stood up as well, grunting. “Somehow fighting you and trying not to kill you is always harder than I think…Hoping you don’t get brainwashed again,” he groused, rubbing over his jaw. “Now, no more trying to kill Gallin. We’re going to go up to the car nice and calmly.” He gently turned him around and pushed him towards the car. Nick let himself be led up calmly. Gallin flattened back when she saw him, but Monroe gave her a thumbs up with a smile. She opened the door slowly, sticking her head out. “He’s not going to try and hurt me?”

“No, Sloane won I think, he took the earbuds out.”

Gallin paled a bit but looked down in resignation. “…That’s…good…”

They looked up when the saw Sloane lurch out of the house and Monroe cursed and rushed over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” she said, clutching her hand to chest. “And I got the notes too. How’re you and Nick?”

“Bruised but alive,” he said with a smile.

“Screw your bruises, I can’t feel my hand…” she muttered.

“Oh, shit, okay,” he said, quickly helping to support her and bring her to the car. “Um, Gallin? You need a lift?”

Gallin looked at Sloane and then away. “No, I…I have my car, I just need to go get my keys…” She looked at the house hesitantly. “And take care of…whatever is in there. I-I can do that.”

“Are you sure?” Monroe asked hesitantly.

“Yes, I…can do it. Let me do that much…” she said a bit more firmly.

“She’s in that lab…we'll leave it to you then…” Sloane said, moving for the car without looking at her. Gallin hunkered down a little, knowing she didn’t expect anything different really but it hurt obviously. Monroe looked at her sympathetically. “Monroe, you’ll have to drive.”

“Right. Uh, Nick, get in the back seat and buckle up.”

\----------------------------

When they arrived back at the shop, Rosalee had immediately worked on treating Sloane and Monroe. Sloane’s hand was dipped into a bowl of slightly warmed water and then treated the blisters and bandaged it up. The other scratches and cuts were also treated on both of them and they sighed as they sat down to try and relax again. Sloane was quiet through all of this, looking thoughtful. Hank and Juliette arrived as well, listening raptly to the account of what happened.

“Okay…now that you’re both okay, I think we’re ready to cure Nick,” Rosalee said.

“You have it ready?” Monroe asked in surprised.

“I worked on the initial cure while you were gone and went over the notes while you were talking. I think I see how to reverse the whole thing from what that…woman did. It’ll just take a little bit.”

They all rose and watched as she gathered up around him while Rosalee brought over a bowl. “Nick, drink this.”

Nick took the bowl and tipped it back, drinking from the frothy green liquid that had bits of flowers in it without protest.

“This is the cure for the cracher mortal, right? Is it really going to help with this?” Hank asked.

“I tweaked it a bit. Lucretia and I made some separate notes going over the reaction Nick had, and it should flush out his system of what Gwyn did to him and the problem with Zombification,” Rosalee said.

They all watched, holding their breath as Nick brought the empty bowl back down. There was a few moments of nothing, then he closed his eyes as if suddenly reeling from a stiff wind. He took a gasping breath and dropped the bowl, grabbing the table behind him even as Juliette and Monroe moved to steady him. He blinked slowly and then looked at them all. “…Guys?”

They all smiled widely. “Nick?” Juliette said hopefully.

“I…yeah, I’m back,” he croaked. “I…God, I’m so sorry guys…”

“Sorry?” Hank asked, giving him a hug around his shoulders.

“I…I was conscious of what I was doing,” he said, looking tired and guilty. He looked at Monroe. “I…I was fighting you so hard, so that I could hurt Gallin…But I couldn’t stop. No matter how hard I tried. It was like I was a spectator in my own body!” He breathed out, moving into Juliette a little. “I could feel it all too…she took a damn spinal tap on me!” he groaned, the pain catching up through the relief as he doubled over a little.

“She what?” Juliette asked, outraged.

“She was working on something,” Nick said. “I didn’t hear much after she put those headphones in me.” He looked up at Sloane and smiled gratefully. “I was pretty relieved when you spoke over them and got me to stop…” He looked at her hand and frowned. “But you got hurt …”

Sloane smiled slightly, though she looked tired too. “Don’t worry. I get to keep my hand. It’s just going to be kind of tender for a few days…”

“She almost killed you didn’t she?”

“Part of being a Grimm is nearly getting killed,” she said, reaching out with her good hand to set it on his shoulder. “I’m alive, and I’ll heal. So will you.”

He smiled again and then sighed and leaned against Juliette. “I feel tired though after everything…”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Monroe said.

“I bought you a few days at the station with the food poisoning excuse,” Hank said. “Take a bit of time, I think Renard will understand.”

“I’ll make him if he doesn’t,” Sloane said.

Nick sighed and looked around. “I really don’t know how to thank you guys for all of this…”

“Thank you is fine,” Rosalee said with a smile. Nick smiled back and shakily got up to give each of them a hug. He hesitated with Sloane, knowing she wasn’t always keen on that sort of thing, but he finally circled his arms around her gently. “Thanks for having my back….” He said quietly.

Sloane was quiet a moment before reaching up with her good hand and patting his back, smiling softly. “You’re welcome…”

\---------------------

The next few days, things started to quiet down. Nick got his strength back at home and thus far, there were no worrying side effects. His energy came back after sleeping almost an entire day, with Juliette staying with him to keep an eye on him. Monroe’s parents were not keen on him being more bruised, but Monroe managed to smooth things over in time to take them to the airport. They’d also warmed up much more to Rosalee when she showed them how she had worked out the cure for Nick. Alice was openly amazed and happy that her future daughter in law was smart. Bart was a little less open about it but he smiled and shook her hand when they parted ways.

Sloane…was wrestling with a few things of her own. Her hand was healing thanks to the Grimm salve, but she kept going over the events in her head. It was strange to think how different she was from just a year ago. It was something she hated thinking about because it brought about all kinds of feelings. She wanted to be more like her grandmother, but knowing what other Grimms might think…

There was a knock at the door while she was trying to meditate on that thought and she sighed and pushed herself up from the couch. Through the peephole she saw Gallin standing there, looking nervous. Sloane hesitated but ultimately opened the door. “Hey…?”

“Hi, um…can we talk?” she said, trying to look brave. Sloane hesitated but finally sighed and stood aside. Gallin quickly stepped in before she changed her mind. She stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“…I…am sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean to put Nick or anyone else in danger, I-I honestly thought Gallin would help. Or wanted to help…But you were also right that I don’t really know what it is to be a Grimm…My father and brother both were always gone on hunts and I just…I wanted to help but I never could.”

“…You were part of that world but not a citizen,” Sloane said, remembering Lucretia’s words.

“Yeah, that’s a good way to put it. I was just a spectator till I began training as a librarian. But it never felt like enough…But I don’t know if it was enough for me or enough for my parents. I wanted to do more, to _be_ more, but I didn’t have the funds or the smarts or the skills besides just bartering goods and dealing with dead bodies…”

Sloane sighed and sat down. “You did plenty doing that. You had things we needed.”

“I know, but I wanted to feel like I was part of something! I barely felt like I was part of my family sometimes, being the only non-Grimm. Even after losing my brother to a hunt, I still wanted to be out there. But being out there last night, I realized how unprepared I was despite thinking I could do it. I never even really learned to fight, just use weapons—and even then, not firsthand…” She took a breath and sat down. “When we were young, I thought you were so cool…You were everything I wasn’t.”

She was quiet a moment as she took that in. “…What do you think of me now?”

“…You’re…someone who spent the last two decades killing a lot of wesen. Last night was a taste of what you go through and it was bitter as hell…”

“Actually, it’s not. I never had people like Monroe or Nick having my back,” Sloane said. “It was just me, going around hunting any pretty much any wesen I could get a lead on. I never let myself stay longer than a couple of weeks anywhere if I could help it. And honestly, that’s how it was for most Grimms.”

Gallin nodded slowly. “I remember. My mother died young and yet it never clicked for me it was because of this…And then my brother. And my dad…well, we don’t talk so I’m not even sure. Do you ever think you would stop?”

“…I kind of have stopped traveling,” Sloane said. “But hunting? No. I’m a Grimm. Its part of what I am. Maybe I’m a bit more discriminating now, but I can’t just not see the signs now and do nothing…”

Gallin smiled a little. “I kind of figured…I, um…I quit though. Being a librarian.”

Sloane actually looked at her in surprise. “You did? But…”

She smiled sadly and shrugged. “I based my whole life around the Grimm life but…After all of this, I want to live for myself. I’ll be helping out on and off till they find a replacement, but then…I think I might move. Find a new job. Just…stop doing what’s convenient for other people and live.” She looked at her, nervous. “Is that…okay?”

Sloane stared and then her lips twitched. “You want to live for yourself, what are you asking me for?”

Gallin blushed but then laughed. “Yeah, it’s a reflex. I…really wanted you to like me. I kind of had a crush on you when we were younger.”

Sloane was surprised again, blushing. “Oh…Um…”

“Yeah…being a lesbian also didn’t really make me any more of an asset to my family…”

“What’s their problem?” Sloane said, affronted for her.

She smiled at her again. “Just…old traditions,” she sighed.

“…Yeah…Tradition…Kinda sucks sometimes,” she agreed.

“Yeah…So I want to kind of get away from that.” She pulled out a small ring sized box and Sloane paused.

“Uh…I know you said you had a crush on me, but isn’t a proposal moving awfully fast?” she said, leaning away as if about to run.

“What? Oh! Oh no, that’s not, this isn’t-” She blushed and then laughed. “No, I’m not doing that. I…you don’t feel that way about me, right?”

Sloane sighed but nodded. “Yeah…I…thought we were becoming friends…I mean, admitting I have _friends_ that weren’t just part of a hunting party was already a big deal…”

“…I’d still like to be your friend,” she said honestly. “But I kind of realized my crush on who I _thought_ you were and…I really don’t know you.” Sloane nodded, agreeing and wondering if she knew herself at this point. “But I know you well enough to trust you with this. I put some of Gwyn’s notes in the library because they might come in handy—and the recipe Ms. Calvert found too. But this…” She opened the box and Sloane saw a round pill similar to the one Gwyn gave Nick. “Gwyn derived this from Nick’s condition. It’s a Grimm steroid.”

“A steroid,” Sloane asked in surprise. “Like…it would do what it did to Nick?”

“She thought so. But obviously it’s untested. I haven’t told anyone about this…Given what it did to him, I don’t want some of the others trying to recreate this and test it…but I could also see how it might come in handy. I thought you’d know what would be best to do with it.”

“…Thank you,” she said, taking the box once she closed it. “I agree though, it’s dangerous when we don’t know what it does and I don’t really wish that effect on anyone.”

“Yeah…So, um…that’s most of what I came to say and do.”

Sloane looked at her and then nodded. “You said you won’t leave till they find the next librarian?”

“Yeah, there’s no one else here right now…Not gonna lie, I look forward to having just one job hopefully. My social life is pretty non-existent. Then…I might go back to school. Maybe build on my Mortician training…become a Medical Examiner or something. Actually help find the answers I thought I couldn’t before and help people…”

Sloane smiled a little. “That sounds like a good plan, Cynthia.”

She was surprised at the use of her first name for a second before smiling back, finally relaxing. “Thanks…”

\-----------------------------------

“So they need a new librarian then?” Hank asked. The group was gathered at the spice shop so Nick could get a check-up. Rosalee was checking his reflexes, his eyes, everything.

“Yeah. They’ll have to look through the network for a bit for someone qualified.”

“So not just anyone can become a Librarian?”

“No, there are a few pre-requisites and hoops to jump through. After all, sensitive information and weapons and all that would be handled by them. We have a network of vetted people—family members of Grimms or other Keirsheite—and some apprentice themselves when they’re younger like Cynthia did.”

“Apothecaries are the same in a lot of ways,” Rosalee said, looking at Nick’s throat. “Though my brother got more training than I did.”

“You’re doing pretty darn good I’d say,” Monroe said.

She smiled and then looked back at Nick. “Well, physically you seem alright.”

“Yeah, I feel good,” he said, nodding. “Better than I have in a while. My senses still seem sharp, but not like…”

“You’re using performance enhancing Grimm drugs?” Monroe supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Well…one way to be sure. First, let’s check that your eyes are okay.” Nick breathed and nodded. Rosalee woged, looking him in the yes as they turned black. “…It looks normal from here. How do you feel?”

“Fine…I see you and nothing hurts,” he said, relieved.

Rosalee changed back with a smile. “Great! Okay, so now we need to try and get you to change.” Nick looked nervous again but nodded slowly. He hadn’t noticed Sloane sneaking up behind him when he focused on Rosalee woging though and then yelled out at the sudden pain when she pinched his thigh—the sciatic nerve—hard enough his leg went numb.

“What the hell?!”

Sloane backed up, eyeing him. “You still with us?”

“…Yes. But I’m not sure I appreciate that method either.”

“It might not work if you were expecting it,” she said, though she was smiling a little.

Nick rubbed his leg and huffed but then started laughing. “Well, at least I’m apparently cured.”

They all smiled, congratulating Rosalee once again for figuring it out.

“We should have a congratulatory dinner somewhere,” Hank said. “You for being cured, Rosalee for curing you, and me for solving a case without either of you two. Maybe I should go Solo…”

“Ha, yeah right,” Sloane said. “I heard he confessed, is that technically solving it?”

“Hey, I tracked him down and got him to confess. Someone has to do the whole detective thing to keep our jobs while you’re all doing the Grimm stuff.”

“Well, I do appreciate the keeping our jobs,” Nick said. “How about sushi?”

“Good by me, I can get veggie rolls and a nice seaweed salad,” Monroe said.

“Sounds good…Maybe I should invite Clint? He did really help us out.”

“The guy with the plane?” Hank asked.

“Yeah. Kind of a weird guy but okay I think,” Sloane said. “He’s a fløyelshorn, a…” A look of horror slowly dawned on her face.

Rosalee tensed, going over. “Sloane? Sloane, what’s wrong?”

She looked up at her, still looking stricken. “Rosalee…he’s a _flying reindeer…_ ”

Rosalee stared before she whispered. “Oh my god…you’re right…” They stared at one another and then began laughing. The others only barely got the joke but they started laughing as well and things finally felt like maybe they would get back to whatever normal was for them.

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you hadn't guessed, this was loosely based on the Snow Queen. I had fun adapting this one, though I ended up with a lot of characters to juggle it felt...But I like them and a couple may show up another time.
> 
> Glitrende Hud-"Glittering Skin" in Norwegian, a reference to her sparkly skin (why did I not make a twilight connection till now...). I also the german "glitzernde Haut", but I wanted to branch out as far as names.
> 
> Fløyelshorn-"Velvet Horn", also in Norwegian. I had to include the reindeer somehow! 
> 
> Both of these are google translated, so if someone with further knowledge sees a mistake, let me know!


End file.
